#[[ it's not THAT tragic so he's over-reacting ]]
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Hi ky! Are any of the dreamswap character’s religious or was religious? (Not a specific religion but just vague like praying to god[?] for good luck)
And was there like a some sort of priest/ religious type leader that took care of pre incident dream and nightmare?
sorry if you can’t understand or if this is a weird ask, because I’m writing smt and was just curious on how each character would react to certain religious-related situations ╰(*´︶`*)╯
I don't really get the vibe that any of them are very religious. arthur and miles were raised 'religious' but more in the sense that they guarded the tree. I think arthur believes more in their purpose than miles does. but arthur doesn't really believe that a higher power gave him the ability to do what he does, he moreso believes that he's doing what has to be done of his own volition. like, he took what he learned and made his own decisions, rather than putting religion first. they don't really believe the tree is a god, more of an ancient spirit. because magic is just straight up real and the tree really did have a power to impart to arthur, the idea of faith is not really something the two of them obsess over.
hacker is literally just From America so I can see him believing in god in sort of an agnostic american way though. and bunny came from an organized cult that believed in an angry god, but it was never much of a religion to her. y'know, being a murder cult that sacrifices children sometimes and all. I feel like, on that note, I can see randy possibly taking interest in a religion that believes in a loving god, because he grew up in a very unpleasant place.
as for everyone else there's not much, I get mostly agnostic vibes. like everyone has had pretty tragic backstories and weren't raised religious so it's not really at the front of their mind.
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"Careful now, don't make me leave you with that altered sense of pleasure... letting you react to even the most pathetic guest's touches like a virgin. Let that go to some rich pig's head that he's making you moan like that." Jeanne scoffs, though she has no intent of allowing anyone else to enjoy Yuuna like she does.
That sense of satisfaction and pleasure is only available in her arms, and she's happy to keep it that way. Crouching over Yuuna with a finger pushing at her stomach, "You'll find out soon enough. But don't be so angry, if you really want to kill me a few times."
"Behave and I'll let you, I'll even provide you the knife. Given how you enjoy my kisses so much, to see you scamper over the red puddle that forms under a slashed neck. Like a dog lapping water from their bowl."
Her thumb passed under Yuuna's eye to wipe up a tear or two, Jeanne's visage shifts just a little to something more serious. "Everything you could dream of..."
"The only difference between you and I? I have power, had power, and could gain more. And you? Just a little bunny subject to the whims of her world. Tragic isn't it?"
"I'll be seeing you Yuuna. No one will bother you until you open the door, the cameras see a fake room, and people are dissuaded from approaching. Take your time...lay a few eggs for me~"
One final passionate kiss before Jeanne rises up, pulls at her dress and with a whirl, leaves. The dress itself dropping on the ground for Yuuna to deal with, along with the slight mess that is her body.
Thankfully in her fake out, Jeanne's nice little snap cleaned some of the mess up, whatever wasn't pumped inside Yuuna or remained inside.
Yuuna had no idea what the limit of human bodies were when it came to these things, but with Jeanne manipulating her sensitivity up and up, for a second the bunny girl felt as if she was going to explode at any time- as if her body would reach a limit in which it would stop functioning in need of a reboot, like a machine of flesh.
She wanted a reward, it's what her melting brain asked for, but she wasn't serious at all IF a wish to being bred escaped her lips. Which didn't, but Jeanne was talking about breeding her and momentarily, that snapped something in Yuuna's mind that made her try and bury herself more against the taller woman, whining loudly and rabbit ears against her head.
"H-HMNGHAAAAN!~…f-fuck…I-I will fucking-…H-HAAAAHN!-" 'Abort', she wanted to say, but between the kisses and the sensations it was difficult to turn her thoughts into proper words.
Before she can say anything else to break away from being a moaning mess, the kiss breaks and her face is buried against the blonde's chest, and there, Yuuna closes her eyes tight; arms trying to wriggle by mere reflex as the pace picks up to be more aggressive and merciless than before, reaching a climax so her walls tightened and clenched against the invaders- trying to milk them for all they had because her body inevitable worked like that when feeling so good, when reaching another orgasm.
How many times did she come? She didn't know, but she was going to be exhausted and fatigued tomorrow.
Even without the threat, the bunny girl feels as if she was going to need and ask for a few days off to recover, and yet…
She couldn't deny it felt good to feel herself getting attended like this, to feel so full, but the mere idea of the witch being serious about impregnating her had the bunny girl feel a dread inside herself that she couldn't shake off, like if she was the unfortunate protagonist of some bad and cliché hentai.
Yet, before she can add or say anything else, her eyes snap open and…the situation changed, as if nothing ever happened.
Just as she was squirting- it's embarrassing. Yuuna's eyes open wide to stare at the innocent-sounding Jeanne; one of her hands passing by her hair almost desperately, even if she's mainly frozen and bothered by the warmth on her cheeks, her chest, her crotch…
Was it all a nightmare or is she messing up with her head?
"I-I…"
She doesn't even attempt to reach out when the foreigner protects herself or stands up. Never in her life has she felt so small, like an actual rabbit scared into a corner, something that she only felt when her father used to assault her for-
"W-What was-"
Before she can finish, she's back to the situation of before in a blink. Now she was pretty sure that this glimpse to a different outcome was the real dream in which she hoped she would've ended. But no, instead, she's actually laying there, with twitching rabbit ears and tail, rushing through the last orgasm and feeling her contracting inner walls spurt out those fucking fluids.
Instinctively, she lets one of her hands slide to press over her abdomen, weakly helping herself to get rid of the leftover fluids, as if that was going to work to escape whatever curse the witch now put in her.
She hates how she leans into the touch when her head is stroked, like a needy pet, but it's a groan that escapes her lips this time once she hears what the witch had in store for her.
"W-What the fuck are you talking about-" She tries to recover her breath, but she's tired, and her body and soul weight more than on a normal day.
Was she going to be shitting silver eggs through her pussy? Jesus fucking CHRIST. Speak of humiliation…she had to make sure no one found out about that.
"I…I-I'm going…I-I'm going to kill you…"
Clearly, it's not something she believed, she knew very well that she was an ant that could be crushed under her thumb at any time, but it was possibly the most genuine sentiment Yuuna felt against the witch at the moment.
She was even sure that Jeanne liked to hear that. It's what she wanted, right? She couldn't even hold herself from feeling her eyes form a few more tears, no matter how hard Yuuna was trying to hold them back; throat hurting when attempting to grasp the little pride she had left.
"W-Wouldn't I love to know…what the fuck happened to you to be so wicked…you…y-you monster…"
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Imagine you're Mr. Wu and your weird gay daughter runs away in tears after destroying some unespecified object while yelling about you ruining her life. Because you told her you'd be moving to another state. This is the last time you see your daughter in half a year, and when she comes back, she comes back... wrong. She's wearing a light leather armor, a fur-lined cape, and a green flower crown. She has two long scars, one alongside her spine and the other along her chest, the tissue around them covered in burn scars. Doctors say she shouldn't have survived. Doctors say she didn't. Yet she's right here, in front of you, hospital gown clinging to her small, fragile, trembling frame. She fidgets with her hands. Getting her to stay still has always been difficult, but now it seems impossible. She won't let go of her phone. She's always texting her two friends. When you take it away, she gets anxious. You always knew those damn phones cause kids to act weird, but your kid having a panic attack seems too extreme, even for her. Then again, she's always been odd. Nowadays, she wakes up crying and screaming almost every night, and you realize she's been stealing her phone from your bedside drawer every night to text her friends, returning it before you wake up. You catch her once and decide to give her that damn phone back. It's the only thing that calms her down, as if she were a baby with a pacifier. She spends her last weeks in LA clinging to her friends, having sleepovers and playing her weird board games with them. Everytime they drop her back at her house, there's an excessive amount of hugs and tears. But the moments when they call her, or when she leaves to meet with them, or when they show up at their door to pick her up... those are the only moments in which you see her happy. One of her friends, the rude and disobedient one, came back with a big scar on her face. She's been acting a lot nicer, though. The other one too. She acts a great deal more adult now. You doesn't know what happened or where your daughter went. She won't tell you. But you can tell this friendship is the only thing keeping her afloat right now. Maybe you know, deep down, that no one else would understand.
And then you decide to move anyway because fuck her amirite
#amphibia#marcy wu#my posts#so like what if marcy moving away was a proper tragedy#what if things were WORSE for her#what if *smashes marcy with a ROCK*#i realized that.#despite my parents being shitty (just found out literaly today my mom had doctors give me the wrong treatment because she assumed my body#would react the same way as hers. instead of doing what literally every doctor told her to do. now i need to get it fixed)#they still asked me how I felt about moving away to a different province when in like. 8.#like. oh right. this is something parents generally ask their kids about. instead of uprooting their entire lives out of nowhere.#marcy's situation is complicated in a narrative sense because#in order for her arc to work her departure must be dictated by morally neutral forces outside of her control#but her parents' decision seems very shitty with the context we're given. you COULD give context that justified their actions#i.e have them explain that they really do need this if they want marcy to go to college or some shit like that#but then it stops being Marcy vs. Forces of Nature#and it becomes Marcy vs. Her Dad (and she has to accept he's right in this one)#the show is clearly for a Marcy vs. Forces of Nature conflict (in this case it's the inevitability of change)#and in order to keep the antagonistic force abstract you CAN'T have her dad be a proper character#BUT. as a consequence -> Marcy has to give into the ''#the ''natural order'' which would be accepting her parents' power over her as natural and inevitable#it's not even like... accepting her parents are right or anything. just that their o#that their complete control of the situation and marcy's total powerlessness is natural and inevitable#and that's tragic! from a more watsonian ñerspective#perspective* : Marcy is sent back to her shitty parents and she just needs to learn how to deal with it away from her support system#the solution imo would have been to change the motivation behind her family moving away so that it's outside her parents' control too#it really has to be completely inevitable. i can't think of an alternative reason but it's just what it#it's what would fix this problem imo#it's a simple fix really
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"It is too easy to dismiss [Leonor of Navarre] as an overambitious schemer who would do anything to obtain a crown, shedding the blood of her own siblings and her subjects in order to attain the throne. However, a deeper investigation of her long lieutenancy and ephemeral reign shows a woman who fought tenaciously to preserve her place but also worked tirelessly to administer a realm which was crippled by internal conflict and the center of the political schemes of France, Aragon, and Castile. She tried to broker peace, fight off those who opposed her, repair the wounds caused by conflict, protect the sovereignty of the realm, and keep the wheels of governance turning. Leonor was not always successful in achieving all of these aims but given the background of conflict and the lack of cooperation she received from all of her family members, bar her loyal husband, it is a huge achievement that she survived to wear the crown at all. Many writers have argued that Leonor deserved the troubled lieutenancy, personal tragedies, an ephemeral reign, and a blackened reputation, basing their assumption that she committed a crime that cannot be [conclusively] proven. However, a more fitting description of her would be that of a resolute ruler who successfully overcame a multitude of challenges in order to survive in a difficult political landscape and gain a hard-fought throne.”
— Elena Woodacre, "Leonor of Navarre: The Price of Ambition", Queenship, Gender and Reputation in the Medieval and Early Modern West, 1060-1600 (Edited by Zita Eva Rohr and Lisa Benz)
#historicwomendaily#leonor of navarre#15th century#Navarrese history#my post#I mean...the crime can't be explicitly 'proven' but Leonor DID have the means motive and opportunity; she had the most to gain;#the timing was incredibly convenient for her; and most contemporaries believed she was responsible.#She *did* ultimately act against her brother [Carlos] and sister [Blanca]#Though of course the fact remains that:#1) The final responsibility lies with Juan the Faithless: he was the King; the one in power; and the one who rejected Navarre's succession#Blanca herself - while criticizing Leonor and Gaston - placed the ultimate blame on their father as her 'principal...destructor'#All three siblings were reacting to an unconventional disruption in the system caused by Juan & their actions should be judged accordingly.#2) I am hesitant to believe accusations of 'poison' as a cause of murder given how that was commonly used to slander controversial women#and given how it contributed to the dichotomy of Blanca as a tragic beautiful heroine and Leonor as her scheming ambitious sister#3) Even if Leonor DID commit the crime (imo she was at the very least complicit in it) she is still worthy of a reassessment.#I don't think it's fair for it to define her entire identity#Because it certainly did not define her life - she lived for decades before and would live for decades after#It was on the whole one of the many series of obstacles and challenges she had to face before she succeeded in ascending the throne.#The fact that she died so soon after IS ironic but it is in equal parts tragic. And we don't know what Leonor herself felt about it:#Did she think it was a hollow victory? Or did she feel nothing but satisfaction that she died as the Queen of Navarre? We'll never know.#Whatever the case: given her circumstances the fact that she survived to wear the crown itself was an achievement#It's funny because Woodacre parallels Leonor to Richard III in terms of 'blackened' reputations for 'unproven' (...sure) crimes#(thankfully she admits Richard has been long-rehabilitated; what she doesn't bring herself to admit is that he's now over-glorified)#But I don't think this parallel works at all for the exact reasons she uses to try and reassess Leonor#Namely: Richard was the one in power. He was the King. The ultimate blame for what happened to his nephews was his own.#and moreover: Richard's actions against the Princes DID define his reign and were exactly what provoked opposition to his rule.#Any so-called 'rehabilitation' that doesn't recognize and emphasize this is worthless#also if we want to get specific: the Princes were literal children who did nothing and were deposed in times of peace.#Carlos and Blanca were adults with agency and armies and Leonor's actions against them took place in the middle of a civil war#So ultimately I think Leonor's case is fundamentally very different and I don't think her comparison holds well at all
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continually and constantly thinking about Hawkeye: "And you're my best friend, I never got along this well with anybody, moron!" BJ: "well, that goes double for me, stupid!"
#jack watches mash#wahhhhh this exchange just popped up in my head again#like. usually i hate 'they all go their own separate ways' at the end of a piece#but in mash it does genuinely make sense because y'know#there's a war on. one has a family in CA one has a family in ME#but it just makes it all the more heartbreaking because it becomes clear#that yeah. they ARE each other's BFFs. they have NO idea how they'd react to each other in a non war setting#and they also have lives to be getting back to. both of them have stated things along the lines of 'honestly if I could just wipe my memor#of the entire war when it's over then i would'#and it's just so. tragic. idk.#all of them are#excepting maybe potter none of them really have a family to get back to that Gets It#and just. agghh#i'm in the run of episodes that's basically hawkeye telling them all he loves them over and over and it just hits so hard#everyone's faimly situation hits hard in different ways but hawkeye's just. man#(nevermind it's the one that i most closely relate to)
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He is like an angel to me <3
#akira nishikiyama#every time i see a gifset of this scene and it's THIS quick moment JUST before he slicks his hair back THIS to me is his pinnacle of beauty#look at my beautiful bloodstained koi. succumbing to the darkness but honestly he held out longer than i would so we gotta respect that#also Matsushige. my guy. my dude. why did you think talking shit to a guy JUST after his sister died was a good idea. ya shoulda run#but also thank fuck ya didnt cause i fucking hated ya and im glad pretty koi her fucking gutted ya. absolutely eviscerated. like goddamn#this rewired something in my brain lads#cw blood#almost forgot that bit lol. also the other day i posted this pic and caption in a Discord server im in#yknow with the intention of basically swooning over him because yeah im in love with him right. and one person responded to me#and props to her she was reacting like. properly i suppose? like 'oh it's so sad what happened to him#when it all came crashing down </3' but im here like 'yes the scene is VERY tragic and rips my heart out but thats NOT what im doing here#today lmaooo' i am happy to focus on the tragedy of his character and often do#but right NOW i am trying to sexualize a man covered in the blood of his enemy as his psyche shatters so like <3#theres probably nicer pics of this bit but i dont have them on hand. i might start a 'pretty Nishiki pics' folder on my phone too
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Request or randomized kisses meme || No longer accepting
@advnterccs sent: 15. Kiss in the Rain { To your Morty from my Morty uwu }
{15. Kiss in the Rain}
Morty's heartbeat was echoing in his ears. It wasn't as loud as it got when he was extremely anxious or on the verge of a panic attack, but it was still insistent enough to make it impossible for the teen to ignore it. He was trying hard not to let it affect his behaviour, but he couldn't stop the light shaking of his fingers.
Hazel eyes darted towards his boyfriend, who was sitting next to it on the threshold of the French window that led to the backyard of his house. Above them, the sky was covered by dark crowd and the humid smell in the air betrayed that it would be start raining soon. He hated lying to his other self, but Rick had been adamant when he had told him that neither of their counterparts had to know about the hopefully short trip they would go on.
The teen dropped his eyes in his lap. He understood why his grandfather had forced him to promise that. It was a long shot and it really wasn't worth to give the other two false hopes, especially when they could have ascertained quickly enough whether or not it was a real lead. Yet, it still felt wrong.
"Uh, h-hey, I need to...T-There's something I need to tell you," he started, hoping that his voice wasn't as tight as it was sounding in his ears. "I...R-Rick and I are going on, uh, an adventure. I-It's the usual shit...w-well, kind of, but...w-we might be gone for a few days an-and...I wanted to let you know. An-And I wanted to say bye before we leave."
He swallowed, trying to ease the knot in his throat. Was he sounding weird? Too dramatic? He didn't want his boyfriend to get suspicious, but he couldn't help it. He was nervous, afraid even. And yes, his and Rick's adventures got scary and they sometimes still scared him, even after everything he had faced and done, but this was different.
Since that close encounter with that Rick...their original Rick, and damn if he still wasn't struggling to wrap his head around it...the Ricks had been acting weird, even before they had replaced themself with a robot. Now that everything was out in the open between the four of them? He could see how deep the abyss of obsession their two adventure partners were risking to fall in was.
Morty knew that he couldn't risk putting his foot down. Not now, not when his Rick had already proved that he could just decide to deal with it on his own. He and his boyfriends were the only thing keeping the two stubborn jerks from throwing themselves over the edge, as they had done years before. He had to be there for Rick, first and foremost. It was a task he could not fail. No matter the cost.
"G-Geez, I'm making it weird, aren't I?" He made himself go on, managing a chuckle that didn't sound too forced. "I-It's just...I'm going to miss you."
Damn, that was straight out cheesy. Yet, he would have lied if he had said that he didn't mean it. Maybe it was clichéd, maybe it sounded silly, especially since it should be just a few days, but he couldn't help how genuine the sentiment behind those words was.
Suddenly feeling too restless to remain seated, Morty pushed himself on his feet, hesitating just for a split moment before offering his hand to his counterpart to help him up in turn.
Once they were both standing, he found himself playing with the other's fingers. He couldn't tell if it was just a way to distract himself or if he was biding his time. Perhaps, he was merely seeking to prolong the contact.
"I-I have to go soon. R-Rick said that I could stay a while, b-but...he's really, uh, eager to leave." And wasn't that an understatement. "S-So...I..."
His voice trailed off as the first drops of rain started to fall over them. He didn't want to think about the grimmest what-ifs, but it was hard not to, with the weight of revelation on his shoulder and a shadow looming over them all. One shaped like the guy whose actions had been the start of it all, but he wasn't the one casting it. No, it was made of the obsession of their Ricks.
Swallowing quietly, he decided to give up on words and to let his action speak for him instead. With much less hesitation than he had expected, he leant forward, wrapping his arms around his other self's neck and bringing their mouths together.
The rain was falling more and more heavily, soaking their hair and clothes, spreading cold over their skin, but Morty almost didn't notice. His attention was fully focused on the feeling of those warm lips moving against his own and on the taste of his boyfriend's mouth. The moist sweetness and the hint of bitterness left by the dark chocolate they had shared earlier.
Eventually, he had to reluctantly break away to allow them both to catch their breath. As much as he would have liked to just stay there, in his counterpart's arms, getting lost in the kisses they could have fed to each other, he knew that it wasn't possible.
"I-I love you, FM." The words were still so new on his tongue, so foreign. Not just because they had shared them for the first time just a few days before, but also because his counterpart was the very first person he had told them to in a romantic way. "I-I'll see you in a few days."
The last sentence was barely out of his mouth when a portal opened a few steps away from them and Rick's voice called his name from inside it. Their time had run out.
Morty chose to indulge himself for one more moment and stole another quick peck from his boyfriend's lips before letting go of the other's hand and stepping backwards towards the green vortex. One last smile and a wave and he forced himself to turn around and stepped inside it, before he could do something stupid as running back into his counterpart's arm and telling him everything he wasn't supposed to tell.
It wasn't a big deal, if he didn't make the whole ordeal into one. They would see each other in a few days. Of course they would.
#[ ic :: Morty ]#&& Morty Smith#[ When I'm with you i finally feel good enough :: Morty & Morty ]#[ v. Rick Double Morty and Trouble ; timeline split :: Morty ]#advnterccs#[[ the very first idea I had for this was very different ]]#[[ more like a POST angst / relieved reunion ]]#[[ but then I asked myself 'why skip over the angst?' ]]#[[ and it turned into this x'DD ]]#[[ Morty is acting like he's marching towards his death sentence even if ]]#[[ it's not THAT tragic so he's over-reacting ]]#[[ but I guess he's still digesting everything that concerns Weird Rick ]]#[[ and the truth about Rick and himself so he's more emotionally affected ]]#[[ but it's also sweet bc he loves your Morty SO MUCH >.< ]]#;; queue
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I have been thinking lately about a universe where Bruce Wayne killed the Joker.
I want to be clear here, since there are so many longstanding debates on this topic: I do not think Bruce Wayne should kill the Joker. I have just been wondering what would happen if the circumstances aligned in such a way that he did.
And to be clear on a related, yet slightly different topic: when I say I have been wondering about what if Bruce Wayne killed the Joker, I do not mean as the Batman. I mean Bruce "Brucie" Wayne.
Maybe it's kind of an accident? Like, he definitely did intend to hit the Joker, but he's Brucie right now, so he's trying not to look like he knows what he's doing while still doing enough damage to keep the Joker from killing someone, and meanwhile the Joker makes just the wrong move and -
And here we are. Brucie just killed the Joker.
Bruce's reaction here is one thing; he has his one rule for a reason, he's just broken it, he's determined to turn himself in -
His family's reaction is a whole different story. How does Cass feel about this?
How does Jason? Bruce has killed the Joker, just like he wanted, but it wasn't for him, not really, and -
And meanwhile, this happens in front of, say, a gala full of people, so now all of Gotham gets to react to it too.
Average Gothamite, seeing the words BRUCE WAYNE, JOKER, and KILLED in the same headline: OH, NO.
Average Gothamite, once they've processed the order those words are actually in: . . . I did not have that on this year's bingo card.
The city's most famous mass murderer has just been publicly killed by the city's biggest employer/philanthropist/source of tabloid harmless nonsense! Three days before Brucie was making tabloid headlines by tripping into a fountain and somehow losing his shirt in the process! Two weeks before, the newspaper was running a retrospective on the Wayne murders and what donation Brucie was making to help the families of victims this year! The article mentioned how one of his adopted sons had also tragically become a murder victim!
Now this has happened, and Bruce is having a breakdown over breaking his one rule, and the rest of Gotham just assumes that this is because poor Brucie thinks this somehow makes him like the man who killed his parents. They send a huge outpouring of support his way. This in no way helps Bruce's actual breakdown.
Ninety percent of Gotham is sure Brucie didn't actually mean to kill the Joker, and pretty much a hundred percent of them support him whether he meant to do it or not. No one wants to have anything to do with prosecuting this mess. Bruce is trying to make it as clear as possible that he will fully cooperate with the justice system and meanwhile an entire gala full of people is suddenly acting like they could in no way have possibly witnessed events that took place ten feet in front of their faces. Did Bruce kill the Joker? Is the officer sure? That doesn't seem like him. Maybe the Joker just tripped on his own. Marble floors, you know. Very slippery.
#batman#not silmarillion#bruce wayne#bruce wayne kills the joker#as brucie#this is angst for the batclan and crack for the rest of gotham
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ran out of tags so this was cut short but.stage 1 ily… i want to learn more about you i think you’re so neat… i want to give him a nice sandwich. anyway uhhmm i don’t know much about stage 1 so this might be off but whatever freedom of speech 🇺🇸🦅
the idea of stage 1 trying to warn and protect the others in the gang from himself makes me a little sad. im picturing him wringing his little hands together all nervous and afraid after he offered them something—food, a safe place to sleep, something, trying to make up for anything he remembers or thinks he remembers doing in Stage 2 (even if the things he remembers were a dream, he can’t really tell if it was real or not) —and them not knowing what is going on with him or if they can trust him at all. last time they saw him he looked different and he definitely didn’t care about anyone but himself.
and like, depending on how they react to him—he could come to desperately cling on to this one fragile connection outside of his programming and maybe there’s hope for him even if he doesn’t think it’ll last, but if they reject him or react with indifference or hostility it could send him deeper into dissociation—or even trigger Stage 2 as a defense mechanism
#sniffles. goddd stage 1 under nightmare’s reign is so sad#like killer overall is tragic as well like dude. he is so Fucked up thanks to bitchass motherfucker 1 and bitchass motherfucker 2 over there#but like. stage 1 is so overall different from 2 that it would be jarring for everyone else#especially given everyone around him have trust issues as their middle name to some extent or another#horror like fully canon or near fully canon horror would not accept any offers i think#everyone he’s known except papyrus have betrayed him in some way or another at least in his eyes#and killer has given him no reason to trust him in the first place#cross would be more inclined to accept. he doesn’t know killer well enough to build any firm opinion on him yet. he finds killer creepy and#weird and wishes he would stop messing with him like a cat with a mouse it’s about to eat.#but all in all cross can be trusting to the worst of people and while he is very wary he would probably accept. i think killer would be#less violent to him and more poking and prodding and trying to figure this guy out. find every line of dialogue in this entirely new game#or something idk. i think cross would like stage 1 but not understand the stages at least not well for a good while. so he would be confused#on the switchup on both ends. i think he would also be more inclined to try and do something for killer in turn because his character is the#type to easily feel indebted. depending on what stage killer is i think how he would go about cross’ perceived debt would be wildly differen#sorry this is mildly incomprehensible and probably wrong my bad gang#dust would be a mix. it really would depend for him.#dust is mentally unstable and his opinions of killer would likely change frequently enough depending on multiple factors at the time#killer in stage 1 could be very easily blown off by dust just as easy as he could be attacked or his offer accepted#dust is not stable in any sense of the word. he is easily irked and have bouts of paranoia and distrust and his perception of reality can#change at times. killer in stage 1 would be something he reacts to differently. this especially depends on if he’s ever seen stage 1 before#i dont fully remember (and would like to find out) how nightmare reacts to killer in stage 1 when he’s still actively in NM’s domain#not outiside of it or in another au. i don’t fully remember if killer in stage 1 is something he can tolerate as long as there’s no threat#of killer escaping but i assume not?? no fucking clue there#this has so many assumptions because i do not know much about killer#it’s finally the day wick makes a bad and uninformed take#if im wrong thoufh about things i would like to learn cause killer is so interesting to me….the guy ever#i think stage 1 and cross could be friends (or allies or this weird codependent thing or Something). but that also might just be me clinging#to any crumbs of kross i can get like a madman. cross in general though as i mentioned in an earlier post is a lot more of a blank slate#he has a lot more empathy than dust or horror because he hasn’t endured what they have. he has a higher moral code for himself as well#he doesn’t *like* nightmare either. i think he would like stage 1. stage 1 might like cross too because while he’s reactive hes not hostile.
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In my household growing up scaring each other was like an Olympic level sport. We’d wait around corners, we’d hide under things. We took it seriously.
My mom started it. She loved scaring us. She has a cherished photo of me screaming that she took one Halloween night after jumping out of a dark bush at me. But my quickly brother latched onto the game with abandon. Mom quickly regretted teaching us to do this as turnabout did not seek like fair play to her.
At one point my sister was given a life size cardboard cutout of Legolas and the second we realized that thing was an instant jump scare we’d move it all over the house. The scream from the bathroom at 2am was my crowning achievement but Legolas tragically went missing shortly after. Read: my mom burned him.
Now, as the youngest I was at a severe disadvantage. I spooked the easiest after my mom. I was exceptionally sneaky and patient so I typically got my revenge but I quickly learned that if you didn’t jump then it was less fun. Thus began my campaign for nonreaction. Every time someone jumped out at me I startled a little less as I stamped down on the reflex.
After a year or so I would just blink at my brother when he popped out from a closet. Don’t get me wrong, I was still scared. The spike of adrenaline and panic still happened internally but I didn’t react anymore. My brother soon gave up on me and the game died to our mothers intense relief.
I largely forgot about that period of my life but every so often someone tries to scare me and is extremely disappointed.
My favorite of these attempts was at Red Robin. Servers loved to spook the hosts when they could, it was a fun pastime when they didn’t have enough to do.
The hosts were meant to open the doors for people when it was slow. The door we opened had a single seat beside it on the left, then a blind hallway that led to the bathroom.
One evening I was on door duty. I was facing slightly away from the seat on my left. A server buddy of mine snuck out of the bathroom quiet as could be. He waited for the perfect moment, then leapt over the seat to land in front of me with a huge, “RAH!!!!!” It was a feat of fear and athleticism.
Panic shot through me like a lightning bolt but grounded itself quickly. I didn’t outwardly so much as blink in surprise, and after a quick beat I turned to look at him calmly and said, “Hey, Joe.”
He deflated and all the other hosts jaws dropped. “How did you see me?!”
“I didn’t,” I assured him.
He scoffed in disbelief and slunk away defeated.
He hounded me for a week about how coolly I’d greeted him, asking if I’d heard him coming or if another host had tipped me off. “No, you scared me,” I told him. He never believed it and no further attempts were ever made on me.
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Peak Ovulation - A.H
your period tracker warned you to avoid attractive men today. you failed spectacularly
pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warnings: suggest content for sure, explicit focus on hormonal arousal, sexual tension, pre-relationship pining, mild workplace inappropriateness (internal thoughts only, no action), mention of nipples, hotch being a little shit wc: 1.5k a/n: all creds to the amazing @ssamorganhotchner for the request/idea <3
It is too hot in this office, you’ve decided. The air conditioning is on, the thermostat reads a reasonable 68 degrees, but you know your body isn’t lying to you – something is wrong.
You shift uncomfortably in your chair, adjusting the hem of your (probably too short) silk slip skirt, the material clinging to every overheated inch of you. It doesn’t help. Nothing will. Because the problem really isn’t the temperature. No, the problem is standing across from you, stirring his coffee like it’s not the most erotic thing you’ve ever witnessed.
Hotch, all razor sharp lines and rolling forearm veins, stands at the kitchenette counter, completely unaware that you are seconds away from becoming a tragic, melted puddle of lust. His sleeves are pushed up, brows furrowed in concentration as he stirs, and you watch – helpless, transfixed – as his fingers snake around the spoon, the way tendons shift beneath his skin.
It’s a teaspoon. An inanimate object. He’s stirring coffee. That’s it. And yet, your body reacts spectacularly, like he’s just backed you into the nearest sturdy surface and whispered something so depraved, so explicitly not-safe-for-work, into your ear.
You knew this was coming. It’s right there in your tracking app – day 11, peak ovulation, high fertility, maximum risk of self-sabotage, avoid contact with attractive men. Avoid Aaron Hotchner, specifically. But here you are, fully within range of the object of your affection, the exact man you should be fleeing, logic tied to the train tracks while hormones drive the speeding locomotive straight to you.
It’s not your fault, not really. Blame science. Blame nature. Blame evolution.
You feel like you’re not breathing, not functioning, gripping your pen so tightly, it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered into shrapnel. All because Hotch is walking by.
“Good morning.”
“Oh — hi! Yes! Good morning! Great morning. Beautiful morning. Gorgeous morning, actually. Just — wow. Look at us. In the morning.”
The second it leaves your mouth, you want to die.
Hotch, to his eternal credit, does not react immediately. He pauses mid-step, head tilting slightly, like he’s running a quick internal diagnostic to determine whether or not he should be concerned.
“...Right.” He finally says again, before shaking his head and walking into his office.
You cannot do this today. And according to your normal, non-biological-doomsday schedule, you’re supposed to review updated case files with Hotch today – which entails standing next to him, pointing things out, maybe even brushing hands if the universe is feeling particularly sadistic.
You hover over the keyboard, preparing to type out a very sudden, very dramatic resignation email, but before you can hit send – Reid passes your desk.
“Spencer!”
You latch onto him immediately, grabbing his wrist.
“Jesus, what?” Spencer stumbles mid-step, nearly dropping his phone.
Then, his eyes flicker over you, scanning everything — your flushed cheeks, the way you’re practically vibrating with tension, the slight glossy daze in your eyes that suggests either a medical emergency or a particularly brutal hangover.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Not in an unkind way. In a genuine, confused, and slightly alarmed way.
You shove the file at him so fast that a few loose papers nearly fall out, ignoring his question. “Can you go over this case file with Hotch for me?”
Spencer looks down at the file, flips through it once. “Why?”
“Because — uh — I have to, um… reorganize the supply closet.”
Spencer raises a brow.
You switch strategies instantly. “Okay, okay — listen, I’ll let you pick the next five movie nights, and I won’t complain once. Even if you make me watch 2001: A Space Odyssey again.”
“Five movie nights?”
“Yes. Uninterrupted. No protests. No phone distractions.”
The second the word deal leaves Spencer’s mouth, you explode into motion, flinging yourself at him, arms around his neck.
“Have I ever told you that you are the single greatest human being to ever exist?”
Spencer makes a deep, pained noise, stumbling back, but he doesn’t fight it – merely sighs deeply, long-suffering but tolerant, before patting your back exactly once, resigned to his fate.
“You tell me weekly,” he mutters, but there’s a little laugh hidden in the words. He pries you off gently, shaking his head as he turns toward Hotch’s office. “Okay, okay. Before you suffocate me, I’m going.”
Spencer leaves, and for a second, you convince yourself you might actually make it though the day.
You are so wrong.
By lunch, you have died and resurrected at least sixteen times. Maybe more. It’s hard to say because you stopped functioning somewhere around incident three.
First the tie. One casual tug at the knot, loosening it just enough to reveal the cut of his throat. You nearly walked into a wall. Then, the glasses. The stupidest, most intellectual accessory known to man, perched low on his nose like some stern professor who graded mercilessly but might just let you stay after class for some extra credit. You had to physically sit down. And the final straw involved Hotch undoing a single button on his dress shirt. You had to assume you blacked out.
So now, here you are, in the breakroom, white-knuckling the counter, silently begging for the inferno raging in your body to calm the hell down. You’d spent your entire lunch break sprinting through department stores in search of a new blouse, because your previous one was rubbing against your already painfully sensitive nipples with every breath.
You yank at the neckline, cursing yourself six ways to Sunday for not trying the thing on before swiping your card. It doesn’t just fit snugly, it practically announces your ongoing crisis, the material stretching so perfectly over your nipples that you might as well be wearing a sign that flashes noticeably aroused.
The door opens, and you don’t even have to look. You already know who it is.
There’s a half-second delay before you risk looking up – just in time to catch the downward sweep that’s over as quickly as it came, his discipline snapping back into place like a rubber band.
Your stomach clenches, because oh, great, that is not helping. Not when you’ve been exceedingly well-behaved all morning, and definitely not when all you can think about is how you want him to rip your clothes off and put the unassuming breakroom table behind you to the kind of use that would get HR involved.
His jaw ticks, and then, in a flat, exhausted tone. “Do I even want to know what’s going on with you?”
No. No, he does not. Unless, of course, he’s invested in hearing about how you’ve had to swap out your underwear three separate times today just from existing in the same vicinity as him. In which, by all means, he should stay. But if he values his peace of mind (and you know him well enough to know he does) he should probably just walk away. Quickly. Before you start getting ideas.
“Nothing! I’m great! Never been better, actually.” You nod once, as if that seals it. “All good. Just, um, a little warm, that’s all.”
“You’re sweating,” he observes, unimpressed.
He steps closer and you’re certain the temperature in the room spikes by at least ten degrees.
Then, as if he wasn’t already being reckless with your well-being, he lifts a hand, pressing the back of his fingers to your collarbone. His brow furrows. “You do feel warm. Are you coming down with something?”
“Yeah.” Technically, it’s not a lie. Something is happening to you, it’s just not the flu. “Aren’t you – aren’t you supposed to feel my forehead?”
“Yeah, but then I’d have to listen to you complain about how I ruined your makeup.”
Of course he would know you’d spent an ungodly amount of time on your makeup this morning.
If you had any sort of claim on this man, you would be on your knees so fast, your coworkers would hear the impact from across the office.
Hotch studies you for a second longer, then his hand moves, his fingers brushing up the column of your throat. He’s not even thinking about it. It’s gentle, like he’s feeling for something.
“You sure that’s all this is?” he murmurs, thumb sweeping into the tense muscle there. “You can tell me if something’s wrong.”
“Y-yeah. I’m fine. Totally fine.” You can tell he doesn't believe you from the way his brows pinch, but he doesn’t press. “Would it be okay if I went home early? I mean, unless you need me for something.”
“I mean, I always need you,” he says, devastating in its casualness. You make a noise in response, but just as casually, he sobers, hand falling away as he takes a step back. “Go home. Hydrate, eat something with actual nutrients, and try to rest. If you still feel bad tomorrow, I don’t want to see you in the office.”
You nod and blurt out, “Yep. Totally. I’ll, um – drink a lot. Not – not alcohol, though. Water. Obviously.”
Hotch pauses, his mouth pressing into the kind of line that means he’s trying very hard not to laugh. He gives you a slow, knowing nod before heading for the door.
You somehow manage to pack up your things, make it to the parking lot, and drop into the driver’s seat without further public humiliation. But just as you’re fumbling for your keys, your phone buzzes.
Mr. Bossman ❤️🔥: If you’re still feeling warm, a cold shower might help.
💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader#bimbo!reader#bimbo reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo assistant reader#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x you
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Receiving Gifts on White Day with: Savanaclaw
go here for other dorms
Leona Kingscholar
Leona is leaning against your doorframe like he’s been there for hours—which, knowing him, means he probably showed up ten minutes ago and decided waiting was too much effort. He’s got a small, hastily wrapped box in one hand and the absolute laziest expression on his face.
“Tch. You’re finally awake,” he drawls, tilting his head as if he wasn’t the one who decided to show up at an ungodly hour. “Took you long enough.”
You rub the sleep from your eyes, glancing at the box. “You’re one to talk. Did you just roll out of bed and come straight here?”
Leona smirks, tossing the box at you with a careless flick of his wrist. “What do you think?”
You barely catch it in time, noting the messily tied ribbon and the clear signs of last-minute effort. “Wow. Such romance. Did you bite this?”
He huffs, crossing his arms. “I don’t see you complaining.”
Curious, you open the box—and immediately pause. Inside is an assortment of high-quality chocolates, but tucked beneath them is… his scarf. The one he wears all the time. The one that still smells exactly like him.
Your heart stutters. “Leona, is this—?”
“Just take it,” he grumbles, looking off to the side. “If you’re gonna get all sentimental, at least do it quietly.”
Oh, he’s so embarrassed. You grin, stepping closer and very deliberately wrapping his scarf around your neck. “Guess I’ll have to wear this all the time now.”
His ears twitch. His tail flicks. And then—before you can react—he yanks you forward by the scarf, leaning in until his lips are just by your ear.
“You better,” he murmurs, voice low and dangerously smooth.
….You’re not surviving this day.
Ruggie Bucchi
The moment you open the door, Ruggie is already eating one of the chocolates meant for you.
“‘Morning, sweetpea,” he greets around a mouthful, grinning like he hasn’t just committed high treason.
You stare at him. Stare at the half-empty box in his hands. Stare harder.
“Ruggie.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you eating my White Day chocolates?”
He gasps—actually gasps—like you just falsely accused him of a crime. “Hey, c’mon. Ours. These are ours.”
You narrow your eyes. “You’re literally eating them right now.”
Ruggie snickers, popping another one into his mouth before handing over what’s left of the box. “I was just making sure they weren’t poisoned! ‘Cause I love you and all.”
You take the box, scanning the tragic remains of what was probably very expensive chocolate. “I swear, I’m putting a lock on my snacks.”
“Pfft, like that’s gonna stop me.” Then—before you can react—he leans in and nuzzles his nose against your cheek, grinning against your skin. “Besides, don’t I deserve a little boyfriend tax for all my hard work?”
“What hard work?”
“Being this charming.”
You stare at him. Contemplate throwing a chocolate at his face. Instead, you pop one into your mouth and deliberately hum in satisfaction.
Ruggie immediately pouts. “Oiii, c’mon, don’t be mean—”
“Partner tax,” you say smugly.
His ears flick back. Then, with a very exaggerated sigh, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in.
“…Guess I’ll just have to earn some extra payment, huh?”
….You walked right into that one.
Jack Howl
Jack stands at your door, gripping a small box like it’s a life-or-death mission. His ears twitch, tail swishing slightly, as he very seriously presents his offering.
“Here,” he says gruffly, shoving it forward with concerning force.
You take it before he accidentally crushes it. “Jack, relax. It’s just White Day.”
He immediately stiffens. “I am relaxed.”
You squint. “You look like you’re about to fight someone.”
Jack sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… wanted to get it right.”
Oh.
You open the box and find neatly arranged chocolates—clearly homemade, slightly uneven but very carefully decorated. Your chest tightens. You pop one into your mouth, savoring the rich, slightly bitter flavor.
“They’re perfect,” you say honestly, watching as Jack’s tail wags before he can stop it.
“…Yeah?”
You nod. “Yeah.” Then, on impulse, you grab his collar and pull him close, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
Immediate system shutdown.
Jack freezes. His cheek turn scarlet. His tail spasms like a broken antenna.
“I—You—”
You grin. “Happy White Day, Jack.”
He covers his face with both hands. He's never gonna recover from this.
You win.
Masterlist
#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x reader#leona kingscholar#twst leona#ruggie bucchi x reader#ruggie x reader#ruggie bucchi#ruggie#jack howl x reader#jack x reader#jack howl#twst jack
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At least one(1) person asked for it. SO-
We'll start with some stuff from the isat spoiler Q&A
Let's get started!
-There is only one canonical straight shot timeline that technically erases the prologue from existence. When looping back the previous timeline is completely overwritten, like saving over your save file in a game! It's all gone! Despite this, when you start a new game you're making an entirely new Siffrin to torment. So at least you're not making the same Siffrin go through hell again and again! *sweeps Loop under rug* Don't look at that. Don't worry about them. They're fine.
-While wish craft and other craft types are described to have a smell, time craft does not! I mean, what would time craft even smell like anyway? Clocks???
-Mirabelle's time freeze immunity will wear off eventually!
-Loop could actually be still comfortable with He/They. While the time loops did put them through it, the They/Them was mostly for anonymity. But there WAS some sort of identity shift. So you can and should have fun with Loop pronouns. Do it! Do it!!!
-Despite the island being forgotten, it's still physically there the entire game and before that! So it being lost is purely anti-memetic fuckery. It is just censored out by the universe.
-Loop and Siffrin sitting quietly together was originally a bug where ID5 accidentally softlocked Siffrin and trapped him at the tree. They thought it was a sweet moment of respite and implemented it.
Let's Switch it up! Reddit AMA
-There was originally a love triangle between proto Mira, Isa, and Sif before Mirabelle was made aroace. It probably would have ended in an OT3/polycule situation. So QPR MiraIsaSif truthers out there, enjoy this one.
-The idea of Loop being Siffrin came about during saap's developement. Originally the guide for isat was going to be one of ID5's ocs.
-Change God knows everything about meta because they are a God. Loop only gets a smidgen of meta knowledge, however.
-Loop's ability to see what Siffrin is up to works the same way their calls work! The farther Siffrin is, the harder it is. So Loop calls stop working past snack break 3, and Loop can barely see past the King.
-Isabeau wouldn't play video games. He touches grass.
-Siffrin was subconsciously inspired by Snufkin, from The Moomins. So we wouldn't have Siffrin as he is if everyone wasn't rabid over Moomins a few years back.
-Sadnesses ARE are a constant in the world of isat. They only become more common and poweful during times of great duress, like war or Insane False Monarchs with timey wimey powers
-The doppleganger wish in the selfcest book happened "a long time ago" and is only a child's tale now.
-Odile's name is her given name. Kinda. (No elaboration on what the fuck THAT means.)
-Siffrin only got memory issues after leaving home. They were not a forgetful child.
-At one point before they had names, Isabeau was just called "dude".
-While only called scrawny in game, Adrienne calls Siffrin "deathly thin". Metabolism monarch out here. (Probably all the casual wish craft.)
-The reason the party stops reacting to Sif's poking is just because it's tragic and makes things worse for him. That's it. The universe just hates him.
-Everyone but Odile would like rollercoasters.
-Just... this. This is so funny. Also Loop being the final boss while Siffrin is the secret final boss... Also Loop confirmed deity looking!!!
-"comic!siffrin is a whole different siffrin than game!siffrins sadly. rip to them. still stuck in time" WAY TO FUCK ME UP ON A MONDAY? Comicfrin is still stuck in time.
-The characters have official voice claims but not a single one is serious except for the King's. Mira sounds like Animal crossing isabelle(isa.belle. hm.). Bonnie sound like a inkling from splatoon (ID5 specifically used the female inkling as example). Odile sounds old. Isabeau quantum mechanically sounds flamboyantly gay or like All Might from MHA. Loop sounds like stock glitter sound fx. No Siffrin voice claim. Siffrin has video game protagonist voices which means they sound like whatever you want.
-Loop's glow is comparable to a lamp. Not enough to hurt the eyes.
Siffrin and Friends Q&A time!!(Beware these are SEMI-CANON)
-Siffrin isn't really a trap master. They're just fast enough to activate and dodge the traps.
-Odile doesn't like fennel.
-Fave flowers! Bonnie=Sunflowers, Odile=Orchids, Mira=Lavender, Isa=Roses, Siffrin=None, dubiously answered with dandelions however.
-Sif is a night owl, Bon and Mira are early birds, and Odile and Isa are average.
-Siffrin and Odile have probably eaten crabs and would tempt Bonnie with their sinful ways of consuming crustaceans.
-Odile has been traveling for about 2 years.
-Odile knows how to play a shamisen. It's one of her favorite instruments as well.
-When prompted with competition Loop and Siffrin stare each other down like "kids about to throw hands".
-Loop would like to eat a pastry if they could. GIVE THEM YOUR BAKED GOODS NOW!
-Kill the King day is a Tuesday.
And finally random trivia I found while sniffing through the wiki!
-Salty broths actual cure 6 cooldown, instead of 2 like the dialogue implies.
-Chateau means castle. The cursing of castle castle...
-The Change God face with six eyes and a cat-like mouth is inspired by ID5's oc Eye Gal
-The only time tears can freeze Siffrin with no warning is in saap. By using the second Star Crest to clear one of the rows of Tears, you can just walk into the second row and freeze.
-The dev's older notes mention specific shades being used for hair dyes but they're never mentioned in-game because of the an unadded event.
-In ACT 2, there's a small chance Siffrin says "Heheh… Bonk." when activating the switch for the rock trap
-Saap Bonnie thinks nuts are gross according to some unused dialogue, but enjoys raisins.
-During early development in saap tears were originally intended to be spike traps. A left over sprite of Siffrin being impaled does exist, including minor blood spurt. This was probably changed because it was a little too gruesome, ID5 definitely tried to reel in the darker concepts and has stated they went too dark sometimes.
-Loop turning back into Siffrin was considered long enough for them to get an entire animated walking sprite.
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
"Do a lil twirl for me,yeah...your ass looks so good baby." Rafe chuckles,fixing his pants as they tightened around his crotch,the sight of you in a tiny white mini skirt the reason.
"You like it rafey? I bought It thinking of you" "yeah,no shit- you used my credit card" he chuckles. Moving from his spot on the bed,he walks over you,laying his hands on your hips as he squishes the skin. "You should wear it today while I go golfing,you can look pretty in the cart and if you're good enough daddy will buy you a drink."
He smiles before tilting his head down to press his lips against yours as you whine almost immediately,slapping his chest "my lipgloss! you just smeared it all over,daddy." Turning around to face the mirror as you try to deescalate the situation of your almost ruined makeup,dabbing at the area around your lips with a beauty blender.
"Yeah yeah,'s just lip gloss,it's nothing serious." Gasping dramatically you turn around,hand on your chest as if you've been shot as you point a finger at his chest "'s not just lipgloss.."
Chuckling to himself Rafe presses a kiss against your shoulder "I'm sorry cupcake, daddy's being mean yeah?" Nodding as you run your manicured fingers over his jawline,pressing your chest against his,making your tits more visible as you smile softly- a tragic contrast to your action.
꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦
As you sit prettily in the golf cart,sipping at your drink while watching rafe play with his friends,you can't help but feel lonely,so you decide to approach as he stands a few feet behind the others. "rayray?"
Turning around almost immediately Rafe's expression softens a bit before turning hard. "What are you doing here,told you to sit in the cart" "Yeah... I know,but I missed you" Emphasizing your words you run a hand over his chest,playing with the button of his slacks.
"Missed me huh?" Looking over his shoulder he shouts a quick "Little lady is feeling sick!" Before dragging you over the Golf cart and driving over a more secluded area of the field,covered by trees and bushes.
"Since you've been missing me sooo much,might as well show it. C'mon get on your knees" Taking one last look around you move to your knees on the moist grass,quickly unbuckling his belt as you pull down his pants and boxer just as much needed. Wrapping a hand around the base of his shaft you kiss the vein that runs on the underside of it, resulting in a harsh tug of your hair. "Don't fucking tease me."
Wrapping your lips around his tip before slowly moving down,twisting your hand around what you couldn't fit "Deeper...I've trained you better than this,kid" Rafe mumble from above you,shoving your head down until you gag harshly,tears already pooling at your lash line. "Yeah,there you go...nice and warm for me." Looking up through your clamped wispy lashes you start to move your head again,twirling your tongue around his length like a popsicle as Rafe groans from above you "Got myself the best girl,right? Sucking my dick like this where everyone can pass by"
Nodding as best as you can,you pull off him with a loud "pop". "Wanna make you feel good,daddy." Smiling to himself, Rafe wipes at your saliva coated lower lip before bringing your mouth back on him with a satisfied moan,brushing some strand of hair that have fallen over your face away. "Fuck,keep doing that and I'm gonna cum. You want daddy to cum in your mouth? Yeah,you do."
Meeting you midway as he thrust into your mouth,giving you no time to react or even understand. "shit- 'm cumming" As his rhythm gets sloppier,you suck around his tip holding onto his thigh as you feel a milky substance flood your mouth. Breathing loudly he pulls you away from him as he smirks "Show me your tongue,angel" showcasing your tongue with a proud smile you look up at him in search of praise. "good girl,what do we say now?" "thank you daddy!"
#first long drabble what do we think?#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#outer banks x reader#rafe cameron thoughts#rafe cameron smut#outer banks smut#drew starkey x reader#🎀princess
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Wisdom And Death - N.R

P: DemiGod!Ni-ki X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Teasing, Sword fighting, Tension, Obsessive Behaviour (no literally), Jealousy if you squint, Park Wonbin Cameo.
Synopsis: You’ve just discovered you're the daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom, and now you’re at Camp Half-Blood. You struggle to survive—but now Ni-ki, son of Hades seems to have taken an interest in you.
a/n: already done harry potter, why not try out percy jackson as well? i dont expect this to do good tbh..
--
You were a daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom and strategy. It was a truth you had only recently learned, and not in the way you might have expected. Your father—distant, aloof, and perpetually overworked—had dropped the bombshell on you like it was just another item on his to-do list. For years, he had told you that your mother had died in childbirth, a tragic story you’d grown up swallowing whole. But then, out of nowhere, he decided it was time you knew the truth.
At first, you didn’t believe him. Who would? The idea of being the child of a literal goddess sounded absurd, like something out of one of those cheesy fantasy movies you used to watch. But your dad wouldn’t let you argue. He brushed off your questions with the same detached efficiency he used for everything else and, before you knew it, you were being shoved into the backseat of a car with a suitcase in one hand and a head full of unanswered questions.
That’s how you ended up here: a camp in the middle of the woods with a wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze. You tilted your head to read it, the letters etched deep into the grain: Camp Half-Blood.
"Right," you muttered to yourself. "Because Camp Mythological Heritage would’ve been too on the nose."
Still, there was no turning back now. With a shrug, you stepped past the entrance and into a world that felt like something out of a fever dream. Kids your age—and younger—were scattered across the campgrounds, each of them doing something more insane than the last. One kid was scaling a rock wall that was on fire, while another sparred with a partner using what looked like actual swords. Over by the lake, a group of campers were... were those horses? No, centaurs. Actual centaurs.
You stood frozen, your mouth slightly ajar. It was like stepping into a fantasy novel. Or a madhouse. You hadn’t decided which one yet.
“Well,” you muttered to yourself, “this is either going to be the best thing that ever happened to me... or the absolute worst.”
You made your way toward the center of the camp, still trying to process the sheer chaos unfolding around you. Everyone seemed so... at home here. But you, well, you felt like an outsider. Your entire life had been one thing, and now it was completely turned upside down. As you walked, you tried to ignore the tiny pit of unease growing in your stomach. This wasn’t what you had imagined. Then again, you hadn’t imagined much of anything.
Before you could spiral too much, a voice broke through your thoughts. "You must be the daughter of Athena," it said, smooth and calm, yet somehow with a touch of familiarity, as if it had known you your whole life.
You blinked up at the speaker, startled. Standing before you was a centaur—half man, half horse—his chest broad and dignified, and his eyes sharp, like he could see right through you. He was somehow... kind. A strange contrast to the world you had just walked into.
“Welcome,” he continued, extending a hand that you shook uncertainly. “I’m Chiron. I know this must be overwhelming, but we’re here to help.”
You raised an eyebrow. "Chiron? Like, the Chiron from Greek mythology?"
"That would be me," he said with a small chuckle. "But I’ve been around for a long time, you'll find the name a bit more casual in a place like this."
You blinked again, not sure how to react. This wasn’t the kind of welcome you had expected, but then again, nothing about this situation was what you’d imagined.
As Chiron began to explain the camp, his words flowed with an ease that made everything sound... normal. Like discovering you were the child of a goddess wasn’t as monumental as it seemed. He explained the demigod life with a sense of nonchalance, detailing the training you’d undergo. Everything had a rhythm to it, like a battle plan carefully constructed and laid out.
"Your mother, Athena," he said, his gaze softening for a moment, "she's one of the most revered of the Olympian gods. Intelligence, strategy, wisdom—they all run through her blood, and now, through yours."
You had to hold back a sigh. You’d heard about your mother’s legacy, but it felt distant, like a story told to you by someone who didn’t quite know the ending. Chiron, however, spoke like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"And here," he gestured grandly, "is where you’ll be staying."
You followed his gaze to a modest cabin that seemed to exude an aura of quiet authority. It was simple, yet elegant in its design, with the unmistakable feeling that it had been built for both function and beauty.
“This is the Athena cabin,” Chiron said, his voice low, respectful. “It’s where the children of Athena reside. You’ll find it to be a place of study, of strategy. And you’ll find that, like your mother, you will be expected to think and lead carefully.”
You stood before it, still unsure of how you were supposed to feel. "I’m supposed to live here now?" you asked, voice almost too small to be your own.
"Yes," Chiron replied, his smile gentle. “And while it may take some time to get used to, you'll find that the family you never knew you had is here. The other daughters of Athena will become your sisters—your allies in this world.”
You nodded, though you couldn’t help the doubts swirling in your mind. Could you really belong here? Could you live up to this legacy, to the expectations of a goddess you barely knew?
“Come,” Chiron said, turning toward the cabin. “Let’s get you settled in. And don’t worry, we’ve all been through this transition. You're not alone.”
The inside of the Athena cabin was everything you expected and more. Rows of bookshelves lined the walls, crammed with texts on strategy, philosophy, mythology, and other subjects you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. The air smelled faintly of parchment and ink, with a touch of something herbal—maybe mint or rosemary. There were maps and blueprints pinned to corkboards, some of them marked with notes in handwriting so precise it could have been printed. A large table dominated the center of the room, strewn with scrolls, chessboards, and what looked like the half-finished plans for a miniature catapult.
Several campers were scattered around the room, their heads bent in concentration. Some were reading, others sketching battle tactics, and a few were locked in intense chess matches. They didn’t look up as you entered, but you could feel their awareness. It was as if they had already sized you up without even glancing your way.
“This is your home now,” Chiron said, his voice low as he gestured around the room. “The children of Athena value intellect, strategy, and wisdom. You’ll find that everyone here has their own strengths, and soon, you’ll discover yours as well.”
You nodded, unsure of what to say. The room was intimidating in a way you couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t the weapons or the books or even the aura of focus—it was the expectation. The unspoken weight that came with being Athena’s child.
One of the campers finally looked up, a girl with sharp features and dark hair pulled into a braid. She stood, crossing her arms as she approached. “New kid?” she asked, her tone more curious than unkind. Her eyes seemed to assess you in an instant.
“Yes,” Chiron answered before you could. “This is Athena’s newest appointed daughter.”
The girl’s expression shifted slightly, softening just enough to put you at ease. She extended a hand. “I’m Sophia. Welcome to the Athena cabin.”
You shook her hand, her grip firm but not overwhelming. “Uh, thanks. I’m—”
“Don’t worry,” Sophia interrupted, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “We’ll learn your name soon enough. For now, let’s just focus on getting you settled in.” She turned back to Chiron. “We’ll take it from here.”
Chiron nodded, his expression approving. “Good. I’ll leave you to it, then.” He placed a hand on your shoulder briefly, his presence steadying. “You’re in good hands here. I’ll check in with you later.”
And with that, he left, his hooves clopping softly against the wooden floor as he disappeared out the door.
Sophia turned back to you, her smirk widening. “Well, newbie, let’s get this over with. You’ll be bunking over here.” She led you to a bed near the back of the cabin, neatly made with gray blankets and pillows. A small wooden trunk sat at the foot of it, clearly meant for your belongings. “It’s not much, but you’ll get used to it.”
You set your bag down, glancing around at the other bunks. Everything was organized, almost militaristically so. No stray clothes, no clutter—just a quiet efficiency that made your own messy habits feel glaringly obvious.
Sophia must have noticed your hesitation because she raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry. We don’t bite. Much.” She tilted her head toward the other campers. “Most of us are too busy with our projects to bother anyone. Just don’t touch anyone’s stuff without asking, and you’ll be fine.”
You nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed. “So… what now?”
“Now,” Sophia said, crossing her arms again, “you try to survive. Training starts tomorrow morning, bright and early. Hope you’re ready to learn how to wield a weapon, because monsters won’t care how good you are at chess.”
Your stomach flipped at the mention of monsters, but you tried not to let it show. “Great,” you muttered. “Sounds fun.”
Sophia chuckled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, newbie. We’ve all been where you are. You’ll find your place soon enough.”
With that, she walked off, leaving you alone to process everything. You lay back on the bed, staring up at the wooden ceiling. The sounds of the camp filtered in through the open windows—laughter, the clang of swords, the steady rhythm of feet pounding the ground.
You exhaled slowly, trying to let the noises outside soothe the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. It didn’t work. How could it, when the weight of everything that had happened in the past few days pressed down on you like a lead blanket? You were the daughter of a goddess. A literal goddess. How were you supposed to live up to that? You didn’t feel particularly wise or strategic. You felt... normal. Average. Like a fish suddenly thrown into a sea of sharks.
A knock on the doorframe startled you out of your thoughts. You sat up quickly, your heart skipping a beat as you looked toward the entrance. A boy stood there, leaning casually against the frame with his arms crossed. His sandy blonde hair was messy, like he’d just come from sparring, and there was a faint smear of dirt on his cheek. He looked about your age, maybe a little older, with an easy confidence that made you feel even more out of place.
“Hey,” he said, his voice light but curious. “You’re the new Athena kid, huh?”
You nodded slowly, unsure of how to respond. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”
He grinned, pushing off the doorframe and stepping inside. “Figures. You’ve got that look about you.”
You frowned, tilting your head. “What look?”
“You know,” he said, gesturing vaguely, “all serious and... thinking about ten things at once. Classic Athena kid behavior.”
You weren’t sure if that was a compliment or not. “And you are?”
“Jake,” he said, sticking out a hand. “Son of Apollo.”
You hesitated for half a second before shaking his hand. His grip was firm but friendly, and his smile was disarming. “Nice to meet you, I guess.”
“Guess?” he repeated with a mock pout. “Wow, tough crowd.”
You couldn’t help but smile a little, despite yourself. There was something about him that put you at ease, even if his confidence was a little overwhelming.
“So,” he said, glancing around the cabin before turning back to you, “how’s your first day going? Overwhelmed yet?”
“More like completely lost,” you admitted. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Jake nodded knowingly. “Yeah, that’s pretty normal. Everyone feels like that at first. But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. Just... try not to overthink everything. I know it’s, like, in your DNA or whatever, but trust me, this place is way easier to deal with if you just roll with the punches.”
“Right,” you said, not entirely convinced. “Easy for you to say. You’ve probably been here forever.”
“Three years,” he said, shrugging. “But it feels like forever sometimes. You’ll get used to it, though. And if you ever need someone to show you the ropes, I’m your guy.”
Before you could respond, there was a loud clang from outside, followed by a chorus of cheers. Jake glanced toward the window, his grin widening.
“Looks like the sparring matches are heating up,” he said. “You should come watch. It’s a good way to see what you’re up against.”
You hesitated, glancing back at your bed. Part of you wanted to stay there, to retreat into yourself and avoid the chaos outside for just a little longer. But another part of you—smaller, quieter, but undeniably there—wanted to see what this world was really about.
“Alright,” you said finally, standing up. “Lead the way.”
Jake’s grin grew wider, and he gestured for you to follow him. “That’s the spirit. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, newbie. Time to see what you’re made of.”
You stepped out of the cabin, squinting against the sunlight as Jake led the way toward an open training area. The sounds of sparring filled the air—the clash of metal against metal, the thud of bodies hitting the ground, and the occasional shout of victory.
The training ground was a wide, dusty circle surrounded by spectators, most of them campers who were either waiting their turn or simply enjoying the show. In the middle, pairs of campers were locked in combat. Some used swords and shields, while some fought barehanded, relying on strength, agility, and strategy to try and knock each other down.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Jake said, glancing over his shoulder at you.
You nodded, your eyes wide as you took in the scene. “Yeah. Intense, though.”
Jake chuckled. “You get used to it. Let’s introduce you to some of the gang. You’re going to be seeing a lot of these faces, so might as well start remembering names.”
He led you over to a group of campers who were sitting on a bench, watching the matches with keen interest. They turned as you approached, their expressions ranging from curious to welcoming.
“This is Soobin,” Jake said, gesturing to a tall boy with jet-black hair and kind eyes. He offered you a small smile, his voice calm as he spoke. “Son of Apollo.”
You nodded, trying to commit his name and face to memory. “Nice to meet you, Soobin.”
Next, Jake pointed to a girl with short, choppy hair dyed a silvery gray. Her arms were crossed, and she had a confident smirk that told you she didn’t take herself too seriously. “This is Chaewon, daughter of Ares. She’s one of the best fighters here, so don’t get on her bad side.”
Chaewon snorted. “I’m not that scary.” She winked at you. “Unless you’re dumb enough to challenge me, of course.”
You laughed nervously, making a mental note to stay far away from her during sparring sessions.
Jake moved on to a pair of twins who were practically radiating energy. They had identical bright smiles and matching dimples. “These two are Jiwoo and Jiyeon, daughters of Hermes. If anything goes missing, it’s probably their fault.”
“Hey!” Jiyeon protested, though her grin didn’t waver. “We’ve been so well-behaved lately.”
“Relatively,” Jiwoo added with a wink.
You couldn’t help but smile at their playful energy. “Got it. Keep my stuff locked up.”
“Smart girl,” Jiwoo said approvingly.
Jake led you around the rest of the training ground, introducing you to more campers.
There was Minho, son of Hephaestus, a quiet boy with soot-streaked hands and a shy smile who loved to tinker with weapons and gadgets. “If you need a custom weapon or armor, come find me,” he said softly.
Then there was Yeji, daughter of Demeter, who was tending to a small garden on the outskirts of the training area. She wiped her hands on her jeans and smiled warmly. “If camp food gets boring, I can help you find the best fruits and veggies around.”
And finally, Jake introduced you to Seungmin, son of Dionysus, who was leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. “Good luck surviving your first week.”
“Uh, thanks?” you said, not entirely sure if that was encouragement or a warning.
By the time Jake finished the introductions, your head was spinning with names, faces, and parentage. You did your best to commit them all to memory, but you had a feeling it was going to take a while before you got them all straight.
Jake clapped you on the shoulder, grinning. “Not so bad, right? Everyone’s pretty chill once you get to know them.”
“Sure,” you said, though you still felt a little overwhelmed. “But it’s a lot to take in.”
“Trust me, you’ll be fine,” Jake said confidently. He nodded toward the sparring ring. “Now, want to watch a match or two? Or are you feeling brave enough to give it a try yourself?”
You glanced at the campers sparring in the ring, their movements fast and fierce. Part of you wanted to jump in, to prove to yourself that you could handle this new life. But another part wasn’t quite ready.
“I think I’ll stick to watching for now,” you said with a small laugh.
Jake nodded, his grin never fading. “Fair enough. Let’s find a good spot, then. You’re going to want to pay attention—there’s a lot you can learn just from watching.”
Jake led you to a shaded spot under a tree with a perfect view of the sparring ring. He plopped down on the ground, motioning for you to do the same. You settled in beside him, your eyes fixed on the action.
"See that?" Jake nudged you, pointing at one of the fighters. "That’s Hyunjin, son of Aphrodite."
You nodded, watching as Hyunjin disarmed his opponent with a flourish that looked almost effortless.
The match ended with a loud cheer, and you were about to ask Jake a question when the atmosphere in the training ground shifted as someone new stepped into the ring.
He was tall—easily the tallest person you’d seen so far—and carried himself with a quiet confidence that was somehow more intimidating than if he’d been loud and boastful. His dark hair fell just over his sharp eyes, and in his hand, he twirled a sword with the kind of ease that made it look like an extension of his arm.
“Who’s that?” you leaned over and whispered to Jake, unable to tear your eyes away from the newcomer.
Jake followed your gaze and chuckled softly. “That’s Ni-ki,” he said. “Son of Hades. Don’t feel bad if he gives you the chills—he does that to everyone.”
You didn’t respond. You were too focused on Ni-ki as he stepped into the center of the ring, his gaze cool and unbothered as he sized up his opponent. The person across from him was someone you didn’t recognize—a stocky boy who looked strong but not nearly as composed.
The match began, and from the very first move, it was clear that Ni-ki was on a completely different level. He didn’t just fight—he dominated. His movements were precise, calculated, almost lazy in their efficiency. Every swing of his sword, every step he took, was purposeful. It was like he was playing a game of chess, except the pieces were his opponent’s mistakes, and he was three moves ahead the entire time.
You found yourself holding your breath as you watched. The other boy lunged, swinging his weapon with all his might, but Ni-ki sidestepped effortlessly, his expression bored. With a flick of his wrist, he disarmed the boy, sending his weapon skidding across the ground.
The fight ended in seconds. Ni-ki didn’t gloat, didn’t smile—he simply turned and walked away, his sword resting on his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.
The crowd erupted into cheers and murmurs, but you were still frozen in place, your eyes following Ni-ki as he disappeared toward the edge of the training area.
“You okay?” Jake asked, nudging you lightly.
“Yeah,” you said quickly, though your voice felt distant even to your own ears.
Jake smirked knowingly. “Yeah, he has that effect on people. Don’t let him intimidate you too much, though. He’s not as scary as he looks.”
You glanced at Jake, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Okay, maybe he is,” Jake admitted with a laugh. “But he’s not all bad. He’s just... intense.”
Intense. That felt like an understatement. You looked back toward where Ni-ki had gone, half expecting him to be watching from the shadows. But he was gone, leaving you with a strange, lingering curiosity that you couldn’t quite shake.
As the sparring matches wound down, you decided to take the chance to explore more of the camp. There was so much to take in—the cabins, the armory, the various training areas—it all felt like a strange blend of summer camp and battlefield.
You were just passing by the archery range when something zipped by your head, close enough that you felt the breeze as it passed. You yelped, instinctively ducking as the arrow thudded into a target a few feet away.
“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry!” a voice called out.
You turned toward the source of the voice, your heart still racing, and froze. The guy jogging toward you was... well, there was no other way to put it: stunning. He had soft, wavy hair that caught the sunlight just right, warm brown eyes, and a jawline that looked like it had been carved by one of the gods themselves. Was everyone here this ridiculously attractive?
“Uh, it’s okay,” you managed to say, brushing off the shock. “I dodged in time.”
He let out a huff of relief, running a hand through his hair. “Phew. For a second there, I thought I’d actually hit you. That would’ve been one heck of a first impression.”
You laughed nervously, trying not to stare too hard. “Yeah, not exactly the warmest welcome, but I’ll survive.”
He grinned, his confidence shining through. “Still, almost hitting the newbie? That’s got to be a new low for me.” He extended a hand toward you. “I’m Wonbin, son of Aphrodite. And before you say anything, yes, I’m that good-looking because of my mom. Comes with the territory.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his candor as you shook his hand. “I’m Y/N. Daughter of Athena.”
“Ah, an Athena kid,” he said, his grin turning into a smirk. “Figures. You’ve got that sharp, calculating look in your eyes. Kind of intimidating, actually.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Intimidating? Me? You’re the one firing arrows at innocent bystanders.”
Wonbin laughed, the sound light and easy. “Fair point. I’ll owe you one for that—free archery lessons, maybe? You know, to keep you from dodging arrows next time.”
You rolled your eyes, but the offer didn’t sound half-bad. “I’ll think about it.”
“Do that,” he said with a wink. “Anyway, I should probably get back to practice before Chiron yells at me again. See you around, newbie.”
As he walked back toward the range, you couldn’t help but shake your head with a smile. If nothing else, Camp Half-Blood was full of... colorful personalities.
--
Your aimless wandering had brought you to the edge of the camp, where the cabins grew more spaced out and quiet. One cabin in particular caught your attention—it was darker than the others, its aura foreboding and unnervingly still. The door was closed, and the windows were tinted, making it impossible to see inside. You tilted your head, curiosity tugging at you as you wondered which camper called this place home.
“You’re pretty far from your cabin.”
The sudden voice made you jump, and you whipped around quickly, heart thudding in your chest.
Oh.
It was Ni-ki.
He stood there like a shadow given form, his dark eyes glinting in the dim light. His expression was unreadable, and he seemed even taller up close—towering over you with an intensity that made you instinctively take a step back.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice low and even, though there was a hint of something in his tone—amusement, maybe? Or just curiosity?
You cleared your throat, hoping he didn’t notice how startled you were. “I, uh… I was just exploring. Didn’t mean to wander this far.”
Ni-ki’s gaze flicked to the dark cabin behind you, and for a moment, his expression softened—just barely. “This isn’t exactly the friendliest part of camp,” he said. “Especially for someone new.”
You glanced back at the cabin, suddenly feeling a little foolish for standing there. “Whose cabin is it?”
“It’s mine,” Ni-ki said simply.
Your eyes widened slightly as you looked back at him. “Yours? Oh.”
He raised an eyebrow at your reaction, crossing his arms over his chest. “What, expecting a skull on the door or something?”
“No,” you said quickly, then hesitated. “Well, maybe.”
Ni-ki huffed a quiet laugh, though it was more like a sharp exhale. “Relax. It’s just a cabin, not the gates of the Underworld.”
You weren’t entirely sure about that, given the eerie vibe the place gave off, but you decided not to push it. “Right. Sorry for… lurking.”
He studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to figure you out. The silence stretched just long enough to feel uncomfortable before he finally spoke again.
“You’re the new Athena kid, right?”
You nodded. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Jake doesn’t shut up,” he said bluntly, though there was the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
You let out a nervous laugh, unsure of how to respond. Ni-ki didn’t seem like the kind of person you could easily read—or impress, for that matter.
“Well,” he said, shifting his weight slightly, “if you’re done wandering, you should probably head back to your cabin. This side of camp isn’t exactly the best place to hang out.”
“Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
Ni-ki’s expression darkened, and for a split second, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he stepped closer—just enough to make you aware of how much taller he was—and said quietly, “Let’s just say not everything here is as safe as it looks.”
A chill ran down your spine at his words, and you swallowed hard, nodding. “Got it. Heading back now.”
Ni-ki stepped aside, gesturing for you to go. As you walked past him, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you with an unreadable expression, the dark cabin looming behind him like a shadow.
Something about him lingered in your mind as you made your way back to your own cabin.
When you pushed open the door to the Athena cabin and paused. Inside, the girls were gathered in a tight circle on the floor, their heads close together, whispering and giggling in a way that seemed almost conspiratorial. Books, notebooks, and even a small chalkboard sat in the middle of the ring, covered in scrawled notes and diagrams.
The moment you stepped in, all eyes turned to you. You froze under their collective gaze, unsure of whether you’d just walked into something secret or sacred.
“What are you doing?” you asked hesitantly, glancing between them.
Sophia, the girl who’d first greeted you when you arrived, smiled and gestured for you to sit beside her. “Come join us. We’re just quizzing each other—it’s kind of a thing we do regularly.”
You hesitated for a moment before shrugging and stepping forward. Sophia shifted to make space for you, and as you sat down, you noticed the mix of curiosity and warmth in the girls’ faces.
“We’ll start a new round for you,” said Haewon, her voice steady but kind. She had a book open in her lap, the pages filled with notes in tiny, precise handwriting. “Do you want to give it a try?”
“Sure,” you said, unsure of what exactly you were getting yourself into but willing to play along.
Ryujin grinned, leaning back on her hands. “Alright, let’s see if the new girl can keep up.”
Yunjin nudged her with a playful glare. “Be nice.”
The first question came from Soyeon, who looked at you with sharp, calculating eyes. “Who was the mother of Perseus?”
Your brain scrambled for the answer, and you barely managed to get it out. “Danaë.”
Soyeon nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Good. Next.”
The questions came rapid-fire after that, bouncing between Greek mythology, mathematical equations, Roman history, and even abstract, theoretical problems.
“What’s the square root of 729?”
“27.”
“Who was the first Roman emperor?”
“Augustus.”
“If a tree falls in the forest and no one’s around to hear it, does it make a sound?”
“…Uh, depends on your definition of ‘sound.’”
The girls laughed at that one, even Leeseo, who had been scribbling furiously in a notebook the entire time.
Every time you got an answer right, you felt a surge of pride, and when you got one wrong, the girls explained it without a hint of judgment.
Sophia leaned over at one point, nudging you with her shoulder. “You’re doing better than I did my first time.”
“Really?” you asked, half-laughing as Haewon fired off another question about theoretical physics.
“Really,” Sophia said with a grin. “You’ll fit right in.”
You had proven it to yourself. You were one of them.
--
The morning light filtered through the trees, as you stood in the training area, still feeling the weight of the armor strapped to your body. It wasn’t much—light armor, a sword, and a shield—but it was enough to make you feel like you were suddenly expected to be someone else, someone capable of defending themselves.
You awkwardly adjusted the straps, wondering just how much of a disaster your first training session would be. You didn’t even know what to do with the sword yet—let alone how to hold the shield properly.
That’s when you felt it—someone’s gaze on you. You turned, and your eyes locked with a guy standing just a few paces away. You recognized him immediately. It was hard not to—he was a son of Ares, and he looked the part. Broad-shouldered, with a sharp, aggressive expression, his dark eyes narrowed as he sized you up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Are you just going to stand there all day, or are you going to learn how to use that thing?” he called out, his tone sharp, almost challenging.
You straightened up, heart racing. “Uh… I’m not really sure what to do…”
He snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, I figured. Don’t worry, kid. You’re about to find out.”
Before you could react, he was on you—his movements swift and brutal as he lunged forward, his sword aimed directly at your chest. You barely had time to raise your shield, the force of the blow almost knocking you off your feet.
Your heart pounded in your ears, and for a moment, you wondered if you should just give up—if maybe you weren’t cut out for this. But then, a quiet voice in the back of your mind reminded you who your mother was. Athena. Goddess of wisdom and strategy. You weren’t just any camper here. You had the blood of a warrior in you, even if it felt distant.
“Focus,” you whispered to yourself, trying to steady your breathing.
The son of Ares swung again, but this time you were ready. You sidestepped, your body moving almost instinctively as your shield blocked the next attack. You could feel the heat from his strikes, the raw power behind each one.
“Not bad,” he grunted, clearly surprised by your ability to dodge. “But don’t just block—counterattack!”
Counterattack. You barely had time to think before another strike came at you, but this time, your instincts took over. You shifted, raising your sword and parrying his strike. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to push him off balance. You swung back, though he easily blocked it with his own shield.
This continued for a few more rounds, the fight becoming more of a dance between the two of you, until you found yourself growing more comfortable, your movements becoming sharper and more deliberate. The son of Ares didn’t give you an inch, but you were beginning to see the patterns in his strikes—predicting where his next attack would come from, even as your breath grew heavier.
You didn’t win the sparring match—he was still faster, stronger, and more experienced—but by the time it ended, you felt greatful to be alive.
“Not bad for a newbie,” the son of Ares said, stepping back and giving you a nod of approval. “You’ve got some guts.”
You wiped the sweat from your brow, your heart still racing. “I... I didn’t think I could do that.”
He gave you a look that was almost approving, though his face still carried that rough edge. “You’re a daughter of Athena, right? You should’ve known you had it in you.”
You nodded, though doubt still lingered in the back of your mind. Were you really your mother’s daughter? Sure, you’d dodged and blocked the attacks, but did that make you a true warrior?
The son of Ares turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your sword in hand and your shield still raised, as the sounds of camp life continued around you.
Just as you were trying to catch your breath, still processing the son of Ares’ brutal training session, you heard a voice—a familiar, mocking tone that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Well, well, looks like you’re still standing,” Ni-ki said, his voice smooth and teasing.
You looked up, and there he was. He was dressed in light armor like you, a sword and shield strapped to his side, his posture relaxed as he twirled his sword in his hand, almost as if he were showing off. The corner of his lips curled into a smirk as he locked eyes with you.
“What? You’re gonna just stand there?” Ni-ki teased, his tone light but laced with challenge.
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could even form a sentence, Ni-ki moved.
His sword came down fast and hard, the sharp clang of metal on metal ringing through the air as you barely managed to raise your shield in time to deflect the blow. Your heart raced, your hands still shaky from the last sparring session, and now here he was—moving with a confidence and skill that was hard to match.
“Come on, I thought Athena’s kids were supposed to be smarter than this,” Ni-ki called out, his voice laced with amusement as he swung again. You had no choice but to dodge, the blade narrowly missing your side.
His attacks came rapid-fire, each one pushing you to the edge. It was like he was anticipating every move you made. You were barely keeping up, forced to sidestep and block with everything you had. He kept moving, his footwork impeccable as he darted around you, only giving you brief moments to catch your breath.
“Come on, you’re not still getting outclassed, are you?” Ni-ki called, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he swung again. You could feel the heat of the sword as it sliced through the air.
Frustration burned in your chest. You couldn’t keep dodging forever.
Without hesitation, you swung your sword at him, a wild, almost desperate strike aimed at his torso.
Ni-ki parried the blow effortlessly, deflecting it with a flick of his wrist. Then, he stopped and actually clapped.
“Well, at least you’re trying now,” he said, his smirk widening.
You froze for a moment, bewildered by his nonchalant attitude. Before you could process, he vanished.
One second he was in front of you, and the next—he was behind you. You didn’t even have time to react before you felt the lightest push to your back, and you were sent tumbling to the ground.
You gasped, staring up at Ni-ki as he stood over you. “What… what was that?”
Ni-ki simply raised an eyebrow, his gaze cool and almost bored. “That? Oh, just a little trick I picked up from my dad.”
Your mind raced, trying to comprehend what had just happened. “A trick?” you asked, still on the ground, trying to push yourself up.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice casual. “It’s an ability. Using shadows to teleport short distances, just like that.”
Your eyes widened in disbelief. Teleporting? From his father, Hades? It was the kind of power you’d only heard about in stories, something that seemed impossible to even imagine.
“Right…” you muttered, still on the ground, looking up at him in a mix of awe and frustration.
Ni-ki simply shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Not bad, though. You’ll catch up eventually. If you don’t want to end up on the floor every time.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked off, leaving you sitting there in the dirt, your sword and shield at your side. You could feel the sting of both your physical exhaustion and your bruised pride.
He made it look so easy—effortless.
You stood up, brushing off the dirt from your armor with a frustrated sigh, your fingers lingering on the spots where the ground had scraped your skin. You were still catching your breath, but it was clear—combat wasn’t going to be your immediate strong suit, not like it was for some of the others.
“Yeah, I may have a long way to go with combat,” you muttered under your breath, “but there’s still other stuff I’m good at.”
That thought pushed you forward, and soon you were walking toward the archery range, a small glimmer of determination lighting the way. The bow had always felt more natural to you than the sword and shield, even before you knew about your mother.
The sound of arrows hitting targets echoed through the area as you arrived. The archery range was lined with targets, some already peppered with arrows, others waiting for their turn. A few campers were already practicing, some with impressive skill, others just beginning to find their rhythm.
You walked to one of the nearby racks, grabbing a bow and quiver of arrows. It was lighter than you remembered, but sturdy in your hands. You took a moment to steady yourself, feeling the familiar grip, testing the tension in your fingers.
"Mind if I join?" you asked, glancing at the nearest archer—a tall, lean girl with long black hair who was effortlessly nailing the bullseye on her target.
She turned to you, her eyes scanning your form before giving a small nod. “Sure, go ahead.”
You didn’t say anything more. You simply nocked an arrow, drew it back, and aimed. Your focus sharpened, everything around you fading away as you lined up your shot. A deep breath, and then you released the arrow.
It flew true, hitting the target dead center.
The girl raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Okay, I admit it. You’ve got skill.”
You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. It wasn’t combat, but this—that felt like something you could excel at.
“Thanks,” you said, adjusting your stance and preparing for another shot. “I’ve always been better with a bow.”
You didn’t have the strength or speed that the others seemed to carry so naturally, but this was something you could control, something that felt more like you.
For a while, you just kept shooting, blocking out everything except the pull of the string, the release, and the thrill of hitting your target. It was grounding, in a way.
After a few more rounds, the girl who had been watching you approached again. She was still eyeing your shots, but this time with more interest.
“You’ve got good instincts,” she said, a hint of respect in her voice. “I’m Emily, daughter of Ares.”
You smiled at her, setting down the bow for a moment. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. Daughter of Athena.”
Seoyeon nodded. “I can see that. You definitely have the focus of your mom.”
You didn’t know if it was a compliment or just an observation, but it felt like the first time someone actually saw the connection between you and Athena in a positive way.
“Thanks,” you said again, feeling a sense of pride. Maybe you still had a lot to prove, but you were starting to see the things you were good at.
A few days passed, and you’d settled into a routine at Camp Half-Blood. Though you weren’t great with a sword yet, you’d at least stopped embarrassing yourself entirely.
One morning, while heading back from the archery range, you spotted a familiar face lounging near the stables. Wonbin. He wasn’t holding a bow this time, nor was he causing chaos by almost hitting you with an arrow. Instead, he was leaning against a post, his arms crossed casually as he watched a group of campers walk by.
You hesitated for a moment before walking over, unsure of what to expect.
"Still dodging arrows, or have you gotten better?" he teased as you approached, a playful grin spreading across his face.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not dodging anything anymore. And, for the record, I’m actually pretty good with a bow.”
“Oh, I know. I saw you at the range yesterday,” he said, surprising you. “Not bad for a newbie.”
“Wow, high praise coming from you,” you shot back, crossing your arms.
Wonbin laughed, the sound light and easy, and for a moment, you realized just how relaxed he seemed compared to some of the other campers.
“You’re fun to mess with, you know,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “But I’m not just here to tease you. You looked a little stiff when you were sparring the other day. Want some help?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “You want to help me?”
“Why not? Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t embarrass yourself in front of everyone,” he said with a wink. “Besides, I’m a great teacher.”
You snorted but nodded. “Alright, fine. Show me what you’ve got.”
The two of you made your way to the training grounds, where it was surprisingly quiet for the time of day. Wonbin handed you a wooden training sword, the weight of it familiar but still slightly awkward in your hand.
“Okay, first things first,” Wonbin said, stepping in front of you. “Stop gripping it like it’s a lifeline. You’re not strangling the sword. Loosen up a bit.”
You adjusted your grip, and he nodded in approval.
“Good. Now, let’s see how you move.”
He took you through a few basic drills, correcting your stance and showing you how to shift your weight when you swung. Unlike the other demigods, Wonbin was patient. He didn’t push too hard or make you feel like you were failing every time you messed up. Instead, he laughed when you tripped over your own feet and offered encouragement when you got it right.
“You’re getting there,” he said after a particularly decent swing. “But you’re thinking too much. Stop trying to overanalyze every move.”
“Thinking is kind of my thing,” you muttered, adjusting your stance again.
“Well, turn it off for a bit. Just feel the movement. Trust me, it’ll click eventually.”
And to your surprise, it did start to click. Slowly but surely, the awkwardness of holding a sword began to fade, replaced by a sense of control you hadn’t felt before.
“You’re actually pretty good at this,” you admitted after a while, lowering your sword to wipe the sweat from your brow.
“Told you I’m a great teacher,” Wonbin said with a smirk. “But you’re not bad yourself. You’ve got potential. Just stop overthinking.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Easier said than done.”
The two of you sat down for a break, and you found yourself relaxing in his company. Wonbin was suprisingly easy to talk to.
“You know,” you said after a moment, “you’re actually kind of fun to be around. When you’re not shooting arrows at me, I mean.”
Wonbin grinned, leaning back on his hands. “I’ll take that as a compliment. And, for the record, I wasn’t trying to hit you. Just keeping you on your toes.”
“Sure you were,” you said, rolling your eyes.
While laughing at one of Wonbin’s jokes, you suddenly felt a strange sensation, like the weight of someone’s gaze on you. It was sharp, unrelenting, and impossible to ignore. You turned your head, scanning the area, and that’s when your eyes locked onto him.
Ni-ki.
He was leaning casually against a tree not far from the training grounds, an apple in one hand as he bit into it with an air of complete indifference. But his eyes told a different story. He wasn’t just looking at you; he was staring.
For a moment, you froze, caught in his intense gaze. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way he was watching you that made your stomach flip.
“Uh, hello?” Wonbin’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You still with me, or did you just see a ghost?”
You blinked, tearing your eyes away from Ni-ki to look back at Wonbin. “What? No, I’m fine. Just… thought I saw something.”
Wonbin followed your gaze and immediately caught sight of Ni-ki. He let out a low whistle. “Ohhh, I see. Tall, dark, and broody over there, huh? That’s Ni-ki for you. Likes to stare people down for no reason. Don’t let him get to you.”
“I’m not letting him get to me,” you said quickly, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.
Wonbin grinned, clearly amused. “Sure, sure. Just saying, he’s got that whole mysterious bad boy thing going on, doesn’t he? It’s kind of his signature.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but your curiosity was already piqued. Without realizing it, your gaze drifted back to Ni-ki.
This time, he smirked. Just the faintest twitch of his lips, but it was there, and it made your heart skip a beat. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.
Wonbin caught the exchange and snorted. “Oh, this is gonna be interesting. You two haven’t even talked yet, have you?”
“Not really,” you admitted, feeling a little self-conscious.
“Well, you better get used to it,” Wonbin said, leaning back on his hands. “Ni-ki doesn’t just stare at people for fun. If he’s looking at you like that, he’s either curious or he’s decided you’re worth messing with. Either way, good luck.”
You swallowed hard, stealing one last glance at Ni-ki before turning your attention back to Wonbin.
“Yeah, thanks,” you muttered, trying to shake the strange mix of nerves and intrigue Ni-ki had sparked in you.
You found yourself staring back at Ni-ki, unable to stop. His gaze was unwavering, sharp, and entirely unapologetic. There was a challenge in it, though you couldn’t tell what kind. Instead of looking away, you tilted your head slightly, trying to match his intensity, as if silently asking, What? What do you want?
Ni-ki took another bite of his apple, his eyes never leaving yours. That smirk tugged at his lips again, subtle but undeniably there, like he found your silent defiance amusing.
Meanwhile, Wonbin was still talking. Something about strategy, sparring tips, or maybe camp gossip—you weren’t really sure. His voice had faded into the background, your attention too firmly locked on Ni-ki.
“...and that’s why you never spar with a son of Hermes if they’re smiling,” Wonbin said with a laugh, nudging your arm lightly. “You listening?”
“Mm-hmm,” you mumbled, not breaking eye contact with Ni-ki.
Wonbin followed your line of sight and let out a low chuckle. “You’re still looking at him? Wow, he’s really got you hooked, huh?”
That snapped you out of it. You turned back to Wonbin, your cheeks heating up. “I’m not—! I was just—!”
Wonbin grinned, cutting you off with a knowing look. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. But seriously, if you’re gonna have a staring contest with Ni-ki, you better prepare to lose."
You glanced back toward the tree, but Ni-ki was no longer leaning there. He had disappeared, as silently as he’d been watching you, leaving nothing behind but the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.
“See? Creepy, right?” Wonbin said, shaking his head. “He’s like a shadow.”
You frowned, a mix of confusion and curiosity bubbling in your chest. “He’s… something, alright.”
Wonbin laughed and stood, brushing dirt off his pants. “Come on. If you keep thinking about him, you’ll drive yourself crazy. Let’s hit the dining pavilion before lunch is gone.”
You followed him, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Ni-ki. There was something about him, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
--
You swore life had a vendetta or something against you. Beacuse no matter where you went, no matter how much you tried to focus on your surroundings, he was there.
It wasn’t just his presence that was getting to you—it was how he lived in your head now, too. Every time your mind wandered, it seemed to settle on him.
Ni-ki, leaning against a tree.
Ni-ki, passing by with that ever-present smirk.
Ni-ki, sparring in the distance and throwing a glance your way like he knew you’d been watching.
It was irritating, frustrating, and honestly a little confusing. You didn’t even know the guy, but somehow, he’d gotten under your skin.
Finally, you decided you needed to clear your head. Without telling anyone, you set off on a walk, leaving the noisy heart of camp behind. The greenery stretched out around you, tall trees swaying gently in the breeze. It was quiet here, save for the rustling of leaves and the occasional birdcall.
You didn’t have a destination in mind, nor did you need one. All you wanted was space to breathe, to think without distractions, without Ni-ki lurking in your peripheral vision.
The further you walked, the more you began to relax. The sunlight filtering through the leaves painted dappled patterns on the ground, and the earthy smell of the forest calmed your racing thoughts.
You found yourself stopping by a small clearing, where the grass was soft and the air felt lighter. Sitting down, you let out a long sigh, letting yourself unwind. For the first time in days, your mind felt quiet.
But of course, the peace didn’t last.
“Running away from something?”
The voice was low, smooth, and instantly recognizable. Your eyes shot open, and sure enough, there he was—Ni-ki, standing at the edge of the clearing, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
You groaned, throwing your head back. “Seriously? Do you just appear everywhere, or do you follow me on purpose?”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Why would I follow you? You’re the one who always looks at me.”
Your cheeks flushed, and you scrambled to your feet. “I do not always look at you!”
Ni-ki stepped closer, the smirk on his face growing. “You sure about that?”
“Yes!” you snapped, though the heat in your face betrayed you.
For a moment, he said nothing, just studying you with that unreadable expression of his. Then, he shrugged. “If you say so.”
“Why are you even here?” you asked, crossing your arms. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?”
Ni-ki shrugged, the corner of his mouth curling up in that signature smirk. “Probably. But where’s the fun in that?”
He started walking, slow and deliberate, circling around you like a predator sizing up its prey. His steps were light, almost lazy, but his eyes—sharp and dark—never left yours.
“You make it too easy,” he continued, his tone teasing. “The way you get all flustered? Kind of entertaining.”
Your arms tightened over your chest as you turned to keep him in your line of sight. “I’m not flustered.”
He stopped just behind you, leaning in slightly. “You sure about that?”
The hair on the back of your neck stood up as his voice dropped lower, teasing and amused. You spun around to face him, trying to hold your ground.
“Yes, I’m sure!” you snapped, glaring at him.
Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Alright, if you say so.” He resumed his slow pacing, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. “But, you know, you’re kind of fun to mess with.”
You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “Why me, though? There are literally dozens of other people you could annoy.”
“True,” he said, tilting his head as if he were considering it. “But they’re boring. You’re… different.”
“Different how?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes at him.
He stopped in front of you, leaning slightly to meet your gaze. “I haven’t figured that out yet,” he said, his voice soft but still laced with that infuriating teasing edge. “But I will.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but he stepped back, cutting you off before you could speak.
“Anyway,” he said casually, stretching his arms over his head, “don’t let me stop you from enjoying your little walk.”
He turned to leave, but just as he passed by, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Try not to miss me too much.”
Your jaw dropped, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Miss you? I—”
But Ni-ki was already walking away, his soft laughter trailing behind him as he disappeared into the trees.
You stood there, fists clenched at your sides, your face burning with frustration. “Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, walking away while muttering a string of complaints that only the trees around you could hear. “Unbelievable. Who does he think he is? ‘Try not to miss me too much.’ Ugh, I’ll show him who’s missing who.” You kicked at a stray rock on the path, watching it skitter off into the grass.
Your footsteps were heavier now, fueled by frustration, and your face was still hot from the way Ni-ki had managed to get under your skin again. It wasn’t just his teasing; it was how effortlessly he seemed to read you, like he knew exactly which buttons to press to rile you up.
“Stupid smirk. Stupid comments. Stupid Ni-ki,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t realize you were stomping deeper into the forest until the sound of laughter and chatter from camp faded into the distance.
You stopped, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. The forest around you was quiet and peaceful, the sunlight filtering softly through the trees. It was supposed to help, but instead, your mind kept replaying the look on his face—the way his smirk seemed permanently etched there, like he knew he’d won whatever game he thought you were playing.
You let out a frustrated groan and plopped down on a mossy rock. “Why does he even care?” you muttered, staring at the ground. “Why can’t he just leave me alone?”
The forest offered no answers, just the distant rustle of leaves in the breeze. You stayed there for a moment, trying to push thoughts of Ni-ki out of your head. But of course, it was easier said than done.
After a while, you sighed and stood up, brushing the dirt off your clothes. “Fine. Whatever. Let him play his little games,” you said, mostly to yourself. “I’ve got better things to do than worry about him.”
With that, you turned back toward camp, determined to focus on literally anything other than Ni-ki. But as you walked, you couldn’t help but feel like this wasn’t the last time he’d find a way to cross your path—and your thoughts.
And you stuck to your decision. You ignored Ni-ki completely, refusing to give him even a shred of your attention. No glances, no responses, no reactions. If he was leaning against a tree in your line of sight, you’d look the other way. If he passed by during training, you’d keep your eyes locked on your target. If he tried to make one of his smug comments, you’d act like he wasn’t even there.
It wasn’t easy—he had a way of commanding attention whether you wanted to give it to him or not—but you were determined to win this silent battle.
But of course, Ni-ki figured out your plan quickly.
And now? Now he seemed more determined than ever to get under your skin.
“Awfully quiet today, aren’t you?” he’d say as he casually strolled by during your sword training, his voice laced with amusement.
You’d grit your teeth and keep practicing, ignoring him completely.
“Oh, come on, are we doing the whole ‘silent treatment’ thing now?” he teased another time, walking alongside you as you headed to the dining pavilion.
You didn’t even glance at him, speeding up your steps instead. He just chuckled, easily matching your pace.
And the more you ignored him, the harder he tried.
He’d pop up in the middle of your archery sessions, leaning casually against a tree just within your peripheral vision. He never said anything, just stood there with that maddening smirk, watching you until you missed a shot.
“Looks like you’re distracted,” he’d comment, his tone smug.
Still, you wouldn’t take the bait.
But Ni-ki didn’t give up.
One afternoon, during a strategy session with your cabinmates, you were deep in thought, discussing battle plans with Sophia when you heard a familiar voice behind you.
“I bet I could come up with something better,” Ni-ki said casually.
You tensed but kept your eyes on the map in front of you.
Sophia glanced between the two of you, her brows raised. “Uh… should we be concerned about this?”
“No,” you replied firmly, not even turning around.
Ni-ki leaned closer, his presence annoyingly obvious even though you refused to look at him. “Really? You’re just going to ignore me like that?”
“Yes,” you snapped before you could stop yourself.
Damn it.
Ni-ki straightened up, a victorious grin spreading across his face. “Ah, there you are. I was starting to think I’d lost my touch.”
You glared at him now, your resolve cracking. “What do you want, Ni-ki?”
He shrugged, his grin never fading. “Nothing, really. Just nice to know you’re still paying attention.”
You groaned and turned back to the map, pointedly ignoring his laughter as he walked away.
--
From the moment Ni-ki first laid eyes on you, something inside him shifted—something he didn’t recognize, didn’t fully understand, but couldn’t ignore. You were standing there, looking so out of place in your awkwardness, clutching a sword and shield like you had no idea what to do with them. You didn’t seem particularly strong, or fast, or even confident. And yet, he couldn’t stop staring.
It wasn’t just the way you looked—though that certainly didn’t hurt. There was something about your presence, something about the way you held yourself, even when you were nervous and uncertain. You didn’t cower, didn’t shrink away. You were stubborn in a way that amused and intrigued him.
Ni-ki had never believed in love at first sight. His father made it very clear that love—real love—was a dangerous thing, a distraction at best, a weakness at worst. But this? Whatever this was? It wasn’t weakness.
It was craving.
The kind of craving that gnawed at him, that made his chest tighten and his mind race. He wanted you, needed you, and it wasn’t just physical—though that was certainly part of it. It was deeper than that, more consuming. He wanted to know you, to unravel every layer of who you were, to understand what made you tick.
And he wanted to own you.
Not in a controlling, possessive way (or maybe it was, a little), but in the way that he wanted you to think of him the same way he thought of you. He wanted to occupy your every thought, to haunt your dreams and distract you during the day.
The rational part of him—the part that listened to his father’s warnings and tried to follow the unspoken rules—knew he shouldn’t feel this way. It was dangerous. Relationships between demigods were complicated enough, and this? This felt like it had the potential to destroy him.
But Ni-ki didn’t care.
Screw his father’s advice. Screw the rules. He’d never cared much for them anyway. All that mattered was you.
At first, he tried to keep his distance, watching from afar as you stumbled your way through camp life. He thought he could resist it, thought he could just… observe. But that only made it worse. The more he saw you—the way you laughed with others, the determined furrow of your brow during training, the moments when you thought no one was looking and let your guard down—the more he wanted you.
No, not wanted. Needed.
So he started testing you. Little things, at first. A teasing comment here, a smirk there, just to see how you’d react. And when you fired back, when you glared at him with that spark of defiance in your eyes, it only made him want you more.
You didn’t shy away from him like others did. You didn’t try to impress him or avoid him. You stood your ground, even when you were clearly annoyed—or flustered.
That was when he knew he was done for.
Was it love? Infatuation? Obsession? Ni-ki didn’t know, and he didn’t care to figure it out. All he knew was that you consumed him, and no amount of time or distance seemed to lessen the pull you had on him.
He couldn’t help it. You were the challenge he couldn’t resist, the flame he couldn’t stop himself from chasing.
And one way or another, he was going to have you. Even if it meant burning himself in the process.
--
You hadn’t really delved much into Greek mythology before. Sure, you’d heard the basics—Zeus, Hera, Poseidon—but the details? The stories? All the little quirks and scandals of the gods? None of that had ever crossed your radar. But now, you decided it was better late than never.
So, you borrowed—or, well, stole—a few books from one of your half-sisters. She probably wouldn’t miss them for a while anyway. Clutching the worn leather covers to your chest, you found a quiet place by the water, a spot where the trees cast long shadows and the sound of the camp faded into the background.
Settling down on a smooth rock, you cracked open the first book, its pages yellowed and filled with ornate text. As you began reading, the stories unfolded like vivid dreams in your mind. The gods were… messy, to put it lightly. Petty, dramatic, and surprisingly human for beings who supposedly ruled the cosmos.
It was fascinating, though. Each page gave you a little more insight into the world you were now a part of—the powers at play, the legacy you carried. You lingered on the pages about Athena, your mother. The goddess of wisdom, strategy, and war.
You ran a finger over an illustration of her, dressed in shining armor, an owl perched on her shoulder. It was hard to believe you had any connection to her. She seemed so… perfect. So otherworldly. How could someone like that have a daughter like you?
Lost in thought, you barely noticed the sound of footsteps behind you until a shadow fell over the pages of your book.
"Stealing books now? You’re full of surprises," a familiar voice drawled.
You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“Ni-ki,” you sighed, your tone flat. “What do you want?”
He crouched beside you, his sword dangling lazily from his belt, an apple in his hand—again. He took a bite and chewed slowly, like he had all the time in the world.
“Just curious,” he said, tilting his head to look at the book in your lap. “Ah, some light reading i see?”
You ignored him, turning the page and pretending to focus on the words in front of you. But you could feel his eyes on you, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he was determined to solve.
After a moment of silence, he leaned closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “So, what are you reading about? Your mom?”
You gave him a sideways glance. “What’s it to you?”
He shrugged, taking another bite of his apple. “Just wondering if you’re finally starting to take this whole ‘demigod’ thing seriously.”
“I’ve always taken it seriously,” you shot back.
“Sure,” he said, his smirk widening. “That’s why you’re hiding out here instead of training.”
You snapped the book shut and turned to glare at him. “Do you ever get tired of bothering me?”
Ni-ki leaned back on his heels, his grin never fading. “Not really. You make it fun.”
You were about to turn and fire off a snarky comeback, something sharp to wipe that smug grin off his face, but the words got caught in your throat the moment you saw how close he was to you now.
When did he get so close?
Ni-ki had been leaning back a second ago, but now he was right there, barely a breath away. You could see the faint scar on his jawline, the sharp curve of his cheekbones, the way his dark eyes seemed to glint with something unreadable. It wasn’t just the physical proximity that unsettled you—it was the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.
Your body stiffened, unsure whether to step back or hold your ground, but your body refused to move. You told yourself it was irritation, frustration with his endless teasing, but deep down, you weren’t so sure.
“Cat got your tongue?” Ni-ki asked softly, his voice low and teasing, but it didn’t carry the same playful edge as before. His gaze flicked to your lips for the briefest of moments before meeting your eyes again, his expression unreadable.
You blinked, finally snapping out of whatever strange trance you’d fallen into. “What—what are you doing?” you managed to ask, though your voice came out quieter than you’d intended.
Ni-ki tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth curving into that maddening smirk. “Just wondering what it’d take to finally shut you up,” he murmured, his tone light but carrying an underlying intensity that made your stomach flip.
You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but the words died on your tongue when a voice interrupted from behind.
“Hey, uh… am I interrupting something?”
Both you and Ni-ki turned at the same time, and there stood Wonbin, looking between the two of you with a slightly raised eyebrow. His expression was casual enough, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he took in the scene.
He didn’t linger on Ni-ki for long, though. His gaze settled on you, softening as he asked, “Do you want to grab something to eat? I was just heading to the pavilion, and, well… figured I’d ask if you wanted to come along.”
His voice held a hopeful edge, and you didn’t even hesitate.
“Yes!” you said, a little too quickly. You scrambled to your feet, brushing off the dirt and leaves. “Absolutely, I’m starving.”
Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, his smirk twitching as if he were trying to stifle a laugh. “Starving, huh?” he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement.
You shot him a glare but didn’t dignify him with a response. Instead, you walked over to Wonbin, grabbed his arm, and practically dragged him away before Ni-ki could say anything else.
“Let’s go,” you said, your voice a little sharper than intended as you pulled Wonbin toward the direction of the dining pavilion.
As you walked away, you could feel Ni-ki’s gaze burning into your back. You refused to look over your shoulder, but you didn’t have to. You could already picture the smug expression on his face, and it only made you grip Wonbin’s arm tighter.
Wonbin glanced down at you, a little surprised but clearly pleased. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d say yes that fast,” he said with a small chuckle. “Guess you were hungrier than I thought.”
You managed a smile, though your mind was still racing from the tension you’d just escaped. “Yeah, something like that,” you muttered, trying to shake off the lingering heat in your cheeks.
Wonbin didn’t press, simply walking beside you and chatting about something light—camp rumors, training schedules, the usual.
--
Ni-ki watched as you walked away, dragging Wonbin by the arm, your laughter drifting faintly on the breeze. It wasn’t loud or directed at him, but it still gnawed at him in a way that made his jaw clench.
Something primal and possessive stirred deep in his chest, demanding he act—run after you, grab your wrist, pull you away from Wonbin, from anyone, and keep you hidden where only he could reach you. The thought sent a dangerous thrill through him. He could do it. He had the power, the determination, the will.
But no. Not yet.
He leaned back against the tree, biting into the apple in his hand to mask the frustration clawing its way to the surface. His dark eyes stayed fixed on your retreating form, lingering on the way your head tilted toward Wonbin as if he deserved your attention, as if he could actually be worth something to you.
The thought was laughable.
Wonbin was nothing. Just another pretty face with a bow in hand. He didn’t know you—not the way Ni-ki did, not the way Ni-ki could. Wonbin didn’t see the sharp wit hidden behind your hesitance, the way your eyes lit up with determination when you put your mind to something, or the rare, fleeting smiles you gave when you thought no one was looking.
Ni-ki saw all of it. He memorized every moment, every word, every glance you spared him, even if it was in irritation. And the more he saw, the more he needed.
No, Wonbin couldn’t make you happy. Not the way Ni-ki could.
Ni-ki’s grip tightened on the apple, the fruit cracking under the pressure of his fingers. He’d go to the Underworld and back for you—literally, if it came to that. It was his realm, after all. His father may have warned him against becoming attached to others, especially demigods, but Ni-ki didn’t care. Whether it was love or infatuation didn’t matter. All he knew was that you belonged to him, and one day, you’d realize it too.
You just needed… a little push.
Ni-ki’s lips curved into a slow, dark smile as he took another bite of the apple, his gaze never leaving the direction you’d gone.
He could wait. He was patient, after all.
But he’d make sure you saw it soon enough. That he was better than any other guy in camp, better than Wonbin, better than anyone who thought they could have a place in your life.
And when that moment came, when you finally saw him for what he truly was—yours—there wouldn’t be anything or anyone that could take you away from him.
Ni-ki stayed by the tree long after you disappeared from view, his fingers idly turning the half-eaten apple over in his hand. His mind raced with thoughts of you, each one tightening the knot of desire and obsession in his chest.
He could picture it so clearly—the moment when you’d finally stop running from him, stop looking at him like he was some bothersome shadow in your life. One day, you’d see him as he saw you. One day, you’d understand that no one else could ever care for you, protect you, love you the way he could.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. There was no need to rush. The more you resisted him now, the more satisfying it would be when you eventually gave in.
Ni-ki tilted his head to the side, his dark eyes glinting with quiet determination. He knew what he needed to do.
First, he’d let you play your little game—ignoring him, giving your attention to others like Wonbin. It was amusing in its own way, watching you try to distance yourself from him, as if that would somehow change the pull between you.
Then, when the time was right, he’d push. Not too hard, not enough to scare you, but just enough to remind you who was really worth your time.
And finally? He’d make sure you understood that he wasn’t going anywhere.
It wasn’t just about winning you over. It was about showing you what you were missing—what life with him could be like. He’d keep you safe from everything and everyone that didn’t deserve you, even if that meant disobeying his father to ensure it.
Ni-ki straightened up, tossing the apple core to the ground as a small smirk tugged at his lips.
This wasn’t just about patience anymore. This was about strategy—something his own father had taught him well.
“Enjoy your little moments with Wonbin,” he murmured under his breath, the faintest trace of amusement lacing his voice. “It won’t matter in the end.”
With that, he turned and strode away from the tree, his mind already working on his next move.
You could try to ignore him. You could even try to hate him.
But it didn’t matter. Not to Ni-ki.
He’d seen the way your eyes lingered on him for a fraction too long when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. The way you always seemed to know exactly where he was, even when you claimed you didn’t care. You could tell yourself that you didn’t feel the pull between you, that his presence didn’t affect you, but Ni-ki knew better.
He always knew better.
He didn’t care how long it took, or how many distractions you tried to throw his way—Wonbin included. None of it mattered.
In the end, you’d come to him. You’d have to.
Because Ni-ki wasn’t the kind of person to lose, especially not when it came to something he wanted.
And he wanted you.
--
You were doomed—completely and utterly doomed—from the moment you were born. Your life would’ve been so much easier if your father had just fallen for a regular mortal instead of a literal Greek goddess. You could’ve gone through life oblivious to this whole other world of gods, monsters, and irritatingly attractive demigods. But no. Instead, he had to send you here, to this camp.
And because of that, you got to know Ni-ki.
You tried sticking by Wonbin. He was fun, charming, and easy to be around. He didn’t make your blood boil with irritation or tie your thoughts into knots that you couldn’t untangle, and you appreciated that. You told yourself that staying close to him was the best way to avoid the storm that was Ni-ki.
But it was no use.
No matter where you went, no matter what you did, Ni-ki was always there, lingering on the edges of your mind if not right in front of you. He wasn’t like Wonbin—he didn’t make small talk or try to keep the peace. Ni-ki thrived on chaos, on teasing you, testing you, pushing every button you had until you didn’t know whether you wanted to yell at him or… something else.
It was maddening, frustrating, exhausting.
You caught yourself looking for him more often than you cared to admit, your eyes darting around camp during training sessions or meals. Even when he wasn’t near, you could feel the weight of his presence, like a shadow always lurking just behind you. And when you did see him? The infuriating smirk on his face made your heart race in a way that left you cursing under your breath.
You sighed as you sat by the campfire that evening, staring into the flickering flames. Wonbin was beside you, laughing and chatting with a group of other campers, but his voice faded into the background. Your thoughts were elsewhere—on the dark-haired boy who had somehow managed to weave himself into every corner of your life without your permission.
“Why do you look like you’re plotting murder?” Wonbin asked suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts.
You blinked, turning to look at him. “Huh?”
“You’re glaring at the fire like it insulted your family or something,” he teased, nudging your shoulder.
You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “It’s nothing. Just thinking.”
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further, thankfully.
Still, your mind refused to settle. You were doomed, all right. Doomed because no matter how hard you tried to ignore Ni-ki, some part of you always ended up being pulled back to him. Like gravity.
And the worst part?
A small, treacherous voice in the back of your mind whispered that maybe you didn’t want to fight it as much as you pretended to.
In fact, it was growing louder with every interaction, every smirk, every time Ni-ki’s dark eyes locked with yours like he could see straight through you. It was infuriating. It was maddening. But it was also… impossible to ignore.
You tried to shake it off, focusing on anything else—Wonbin’s jokes, the camp’s bustling energy, even the endless stream of chores and training drills. But none of it worked. No matter what you did, Ni-ki was there, lingering at the edge of your thoughts like a shadow you couldn’t escape.
You hated it. You hated how much space he took up in your head, how his teasing smirk and smooth voice haunted you even when he wasn’t around.
But what you hated most of all?
The way your heart raced when he was around.
You let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against the log by the campfire. The flames danced in front of you, but their warmth didn’t do much to ease the chill of confusion and frustration that settled in your chest.
You stood up abruptly, brushing the dirt off your hands. “I’m going to bed,” you mumbled, not really looking at anyone.
Wonbin glanced at you, concerned, but he didn’t say anything as you turned and headed toward the Athena cabin. The night air was cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the fire. You welcomed it, hoping it might clear your head.
When you pushed open the door to the cabin, you were surprised to find it empty. Normally, your half-sisters were gathered around, quietly reading.
You didn’t think too much about it as you made your way to your bed. Sitting down heavily, you groaned, letting your body relax for the first time all day. The mattress creaked under your weight, and you leaned back, staring up at the wooden ceiling.
Your mind, of course, wouldn’t quiet.
Ni-ki’s face flashed in your thoughts—his smirk, his sharp gaze, the way he always seemed so calm and in control, as if he knew exactly how to get under your skin. You groaned again, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes in frustration.
“What is wrong with me?” you muttered to yourself.
This wasn’t like you. You didn’t let people get to you like this, especially not guys like Ni-ki. He was aggravating, arrogant, and far too sure of himself.
And yet.
Your thoughts drifted back to the moments when his teasing tone softened just slightly, or the way his presence seemed to shift when it was just the two of you. It made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t want to admit.
You sat up abruptly, shaking your head as if that would somehow shake the thoughts loose. “No,” you said firmly, as if declaring it out loud would make it true. “I’m not doing this.”
The next day, you were in the middle of a match, your shield raised and your sword slicing through the air as you managed to disarm your opponent with a clean move. Breathing heavily, you stepped back and lowered your weapon, a small grin tugging at your lips.
Straightening up, you turned to face the group. “Alright,” you said, brushing a hand across your brow. “Who’s next?”
The crowd shifted slightly, and then you saw him.
Ni-ki, standing at the edge of the group, his hand raised lazily as that infuriating smirk spread across his face.
Your stomach sank.
“Me,” he said simply, stepping forward with a casual confidence that made you grit your teeth.
He unsheathed his sword, the metal glinting in the sunlight as he spun it once in his hand, almost lazily. “Don’t look so excited to see me,” he teased, his voice low and taunting.
You groaned audibly, earning a few chuckles from the others watching. “Of course it’s you,” you muttered under your breath, gripping your sword tightly.
Ni-ki’s grin widened as he stopped a few feet in front of you, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp. “Ready to show me what you’ve got?”
“Don’t you have anyone else to fight?” you shot back, raising your shield and positioning your sword defensively.
He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Nope,” he said with mock cheerfulness. “You’re my favorite target.”
You rolled your eyes, but before you could fire off another retort, Ni-ki lunged. His sword came down fast, and you barely managed to block it with your shield. The force of the blow made your arm ache, but you quickly recovered, stepping to the side and swinging your sword toward him.
Ni-ki parried with ease, his movements fluid and almost effortless. “Not bad,” he said, circling you slowly. “You’ve been practicing.”
“Shut up and fight,” you snapped, aiming a quick thrust toward his side.
He dodged it easily, his smirk never faltering. “Feisty,” he teased, blocking your next strike with his sword. “I like it.”
You groaned in frustration, your swings becoming more aggressive as Ni-ki continued to block and dodge with maddening ease. He wasn’t even trying to land a hit yet—just toying with you, testing you, like a cat playing with its prey.
“Stop holding back!” you shouted, lunging forward with all your strength.
Ni-ki’s eyes flashed, and for a split second, his smirk turned into something more serious. He sidestepped your attack and, with a quick flick of his wrist, knocked your sword out of your hand.
Before you could react, he stepped closer, the tip of his blade resting lightly against your collarbone.
“Looks like I win,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away.
Your heart pounded, but whether it was from the fight or the way Ni-ki was looking at you, you couldn’t tell.
“Maybe next time,” he added, stepping back and lowering his sword.
You glared at him, your cheeks burning with a mix of frustration and something you didn’t want to name. “Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, bending down to pick up your weapon.
Ni-ki just chuckled, spinning his sword once before sheathing it. “I’m counting on it.”
--
The day had been long, exhausting even, but despite the ache in your muscles and the overwhelming need for rest, sleep refused to come. You lay in bed, staring at the wooden ceiling of the Athena cabin, your mind swirling with thoughts you couldn’t seem to shut off.
The cabin was quiet, the soft snores of your half-sisters filling the space. You should’ve felt comforted by the familiar surroundings, but instead, you felt restless. Like there was something pulling at you, demanding your attention.
With a frustrated sigh, you sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Maybe some fresh air would help clear your mind. You grabbed a light jacket and slipped out of the cabin as quietly as you could.
The camp was quieter now, most of the other demigods asleep, save for a few shadows moving by the campfire in the distance. You tugged your jacket closer around you and glanced up at the night sky.
The stars twinkled faintly above, scattered across the inky black canvas. You let out a soft sigh, your breath visible in the chill. “If you’re listening, Mom,” you murmured, tilting your head upward, “a little guidance would be nice right about now.”
Of course, there was no response. You didn’t expect one. Still, the act of asking felt oddly comforting, like maybe she was watching, even if she couldn’t answer.
You shook your head, trying to dispel the lingering frustration and confusion from your thoughts. Wandering through camp aimlessly wouldn’t help. You needed to do something. Anything.
Your gaze landed on the training grounds nearby. Rows of weapons were neatly arranged on the racks for the next day’s use, and your hand instinctively reached for a sword. It wasn’t the same one you had used earlier during training, but it felt good in your grip nonetheless.
Without a second thought, you made your way to a clearing a little farther from the cabins, away from prying eyes and the ever-present chatter of the other campers.
You adjusted your stance, gripping the sword tightly as you took a deep breath. Then you started practicing.
It was awkward at first—your swings too wide, your footing unsteady. But you didn’t stop. You moved through the motions you’d been taught, the echoes of Wonbin’s voice guiding you. The weight of the sword felt familiar in your hands now, and the repetition of each movement slowly began to calm your racing thoughts.
Slash. Step. Block. Pivot.
Each strike and parry chipped away at your frustration, leaving behind a faint sense of satisfaction. The rhythmic movements grounded you, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as out of place here as you felt.
The clearing was quiet except for the sound of your blade slicing through the air and the occasional rustle of leaves. The stars above seemed to glow a little brighter, as if approving of your effort.
But then, a soft sound broke through your focus—a quiet crunch of leaves behind you.
You froze mid-swing, your heart skipping a beat as you turned around sharply, sword raised defensively.
There, leaning casually against a tree, was Ni-ki. His dark eyes reflected the moonlight, and his ever-present smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Practicing alone?” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Didn’t think you’d be the type.”
You groaned, rolling your eyes as you turned back around. “Don’t you have something else to do?” you muttered, raising your sword to continue your practice.
The satisfying swoosh of the blade cutting through the air was short-lived, though, as another crunch of leaves sounded—closer this time.
You stiffened, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. Slowly, you turned back around, only to find Ni-ki standing much, much closer than before.
Too close.
You instinctively stepped back, gripping the hilt of your sword tighter. “What are you doing?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.
Ni-ki didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he unsheathed his sword in one smooth motion, the blade catching the faint glow of the moonlight.
Without a word, his sword clashed against yours, the force of it sending a jolt up your arm.
“Training,” he said simply, his voice calm and deliberate.
Your breaths came faster as you struggled to hold your ground. His strength was undeniable, and the weight of his blade pressed hard against yours.
“You could’ve warned me,” you bit out, gritting your teeth as you pushed back against him.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Ni-ki replied smoothly, tilting his head as he studied you.
You narrowed your eyes, trying to focus on his movements as he pulled back slightly before swinging again. You barely managed to block the strike, the clash of metal ringing loudly in the quiet night.
“Stop holding back,” he said, his voice low and almost taunting. “Or are you scared?”
“I’m not scared,” you snapped, stepping forward to swing at him, only for him to parry your attack effortlessly.
“Could’ve fooled me,” he teased, his smirk growing wider.
Your frustration bubbled over as you struck again, this time with more force. Ni-ki blocked it easily, but instead of countering, he let his sword linger against yours, his face mere inches from yours now.
“See?” he murmured, his tone soft but no less infuriating. “You’re getting better already.”
His closeness made your heart race, and you hated that you couldn’t tell if it was from irritation or something else entirely. You pushed his sword away with a sharp motion and stepped back, glaring at him.
“Why are you even doing this?” you demanded, lowering your sword slightly.
Ni-ki tilted his head, his smirk fading just a fraction. For a moment, you thought he might actually answer seriously.
But then his lips curved again, and he stepped forward, his blade tapping lightly against yours.
“Because,” he said, his voice dropping into a near-whisper as he leaned in closer, “I like seeing you fight back.”
That was it. That little smirk, the taunting lilt in his voice—it was enough to light a fire under you. If he wanted a fight, you weren’t going to back down.
“Fine,” you snapped, gripping your sword tighter as you took a step forward. “Let’s see if you can handle it.”
Ni-ki’s grin widened, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement. “That’s more like it.”
He struck first, his movements sharp and calculated, but this time you were ready. You blocked his attack and retaliated quickly, your blade swinging toward him in a controlled arc. He parried with ease, the metallic clang of your swords echoing through the clearing.
The fight intensified, your strikes becoming faster, more precise. Ni-ki moved like a shadow, fluid and unpredictable, but you weren’t as easy to throw off now.
“You’re learning,” he said, his voice steady even as he blocked another one of your attacks. “But you’re still predictable.”
“Shut up,” you shot back, using your shield to deflect his next swing and stepping closer to try and land a blow. He sidestepped easily, his laughter low and infuriating.
“That temper of yours is going to get you in trouble,” he teased, but there was something almost approving in his tone.
You didn’t bother replying this time, focusing instead on matching his movements. You swung again, your blade aimed for his side, and for the first time, you saw the faintest flicker of surprise in his eyes as he blocked you just a fraction too late.
Your sword glanced off his armor, the impact making him take a half-step back.
“Not bad,” Ni-ki admitted, his smirk returning as he circled you. “You’re starting to make this interesting.”
The praise caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help the slight swell of pride that followed. But you didn’t let it distract you.
“Better than you expected, huh?” you said, unable to resist the jab as you pivoted to keep him in your line of sight.
Ni-ki’s grin turned sharp. “Don’t get cocky.”
He lunged suddenly, his movements faster and more aggressive. You barely managed to block him, your arms straining as he pressed his weight against your blade.
For a moment, you were locked together, his face inches from yours. His dark eyes bore into you, filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch.
“You’re enjoying this,” he said softly, his voice teasing but laced with something deeper.
You didn’t deny it. Somehow, in the midst of the fight, you’d forgotten about your frustration, your doubts, even your irritation with him. All that mattered now was holding your ground against someone as skilled as Ni-ki.
“Maybe I am,” you admitted, a small smirk tugging at your lips.
Ni-ki blinked, momentarily caught off guard when your sudden, unexpected move knocked the sword clean out of his hand. The blade clattered to the ground a few feet away, and you straightened, your smirk growing wider as you stared at him triumphantly.
“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” you teased, the satisfaction in your voice clear.
For once, Ni-ki seemed genuinely surprised, his dark eyes flicking to the fallen sword before locking back onto you. “I’ll admit,” he said slowly, a hint of amusement coloring his tone, “that was clever.”
You were about to bask in your victory, perhaps even throw another jab his way, but before you could, Ni-ki’s leg swept out suddenly, catching you off guard.
Your balance gave way, and you stumbled backward, ready to hit the ground hard—except you didn’t.
In a flash, Ni-ki’s arm shot out, wrapping securely around your waist and pulling you back up against him. The world tilted for a moment, and when you opened your eyes, you realized how close you were.
Your noses brushed lightly, and his face was only inches from yours. His dark eyes bore into yours, filled with that maddening confidence and something else that made your breath hitch.
“You should never celebrate too early,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
Your mind scrambled to process what was happening. His arm was still wrapped firmly around your waist, his other hand pressed lightly against the small of your back. You could feel the warmth radiating off him, the way his chest rose and fell with each steady breath.
You should’ve said something—anything. A snarky comeback, maybe, or even a protest about his unfair tactics. But instead, all you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it.
Ni-ki tilted his head slightly, his smirk softening into something more curious. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.
That snapped you out of it, and you quickly shoved at his chest. “Let go of me,” you muttered, trying to sound annoyed despite the heat rising to your cheeks.
He chuckled but released you, stepping back just enough to give you space. His hand lingered for the briefest second before he let it fall to his side.
“Nice move, though,” he said, his tone almost genuine—almost. “But you’ll have to do better if you want to beat me.”
You scowled at him, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “I did beat you. I knocked your sword out of your hand!”
“And yet,” Ni-ki said, bending down to retrieve his sword and twirling it effortlessly, “I still had the upper hand.”
You clenched your jaw, watching him looking too pleased with himself. The smugness on his face only made your frustration burn brighter.
“I don’t know how you can be so damn confident when you just got outplayed,” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to hide the fact that your heart was still racing.
Ni-ki chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Outplayed, huh?” He took a step closer, still twirling his sword. “You’re getting better, I’ll give you that. But you’re not there yet.”
“You’re a cocky bastard, you know that?”
“I’m not cocky,” he said, the teasing tone never leaving his voice. “I’m just confident. And you’ll get used to it... if you’re smart.”
You raised an eyebrow, not backing down an inch. “Smart, huh?”
Ni-ki leaned in slightly, lowering his voice in a way that made your breath hitch again. “Yeah. Smart enough to realize that you’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”
“I never wanted to get rid of you,” you snapped, trying to regain your composure. “I just wanted to be left alone.”
Ni-ki took another step closer, and this time, you didn’t pull away. His presence was overwhelming—like he could consume you entirely if you let him. “You say that, but we both know that’s not true.” His lips curled into a smile as he tilted his head slightly. “You wouldn’t keep coming back to me if you didn’t want something.”
Your mouth went dry, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. What was he getting at? Why was he suddenly so... intense? You didn’t know if it was the way he was looking at you or how close he was, but you felt something shift between you, something that made it harder to focus.
Before you could respond, Ni-ki backed away just enough to give you some space, but not before his gaze lingered on you with an unreadable expression. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” he said softly, almost like a challenge. “But for now, don’t forget—I'm always watching.”
He turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, breathless, a mix of anger and confusion swirling inside you. You opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out.
What the hell was that?
Over the next few days, something between you and Ni-ki shifted. It wasn’t immediately obvious, but it was there, lingering.
At first, it was subtle. A glance that lingered just a second too long, a playful comment that felt just a little more personal than it used to be. He still teased you, still pushed your buttons the way only he could, but there was a new layer to it. Every time he sparred with you, there was something in his eyes—something that made your heart beat faster, something that made you feel like he was seeing right through you.
It was hard to tell whether you were imagining it, but you felt it, that strange connection you couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just the usual back-and-forth banter, the constant friction. No, this time, there was something deeper. Something charged. You found yourself waiting for his gaze across the training grounds, your stomach tightening whenever he’d casually stroll past you, like he was waiting for you to say something, anything.
One afternoon, you found yourself in the training yard again, sword in hand, working through some drills. You were trying to focus, trying to shut everything else out, but there he was—Ni-ki, watching you from the edge of the field, leaning casually against a tree. You tried to ignore him, but every few seconds, your eyes would wander over to him, and you’d catch him staring right back.
Finally, he pushed off from the tree and walked over. “You know,” he said, his voice drawing your attention even before he was close enough to speak, “you’ve gotten better. I’m impressed.”
You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “Don’t get used to it,” you shot back, though the words came out more lightly than you’d intended.
Ni-ki smirked, his usual arrogance taking over. “Oh, I’m not. But you’re not as bad as I thought you’d be.”
You felt the familiar spark of irritation flare up. “And here I thought you might actually give me a compliment.”
“You really want one from me?” he teased, his voice lowering just slightly. It was almost like a challenge, but there was something else in his tone—something that made you pause.
You crossed your arms, forcing yourself to act unaffected. “What’s it going to take for you to just leave me alone?”
He took a step closer, that teasing smile still tugging at his lips. “You know, I don’t think I can do that.”
You didn’t know why, but you found yourself holding his gaze longer than usual. You were still mad at him for everything, for the way he always seemed to be in your face when you least wanted him to be. But there was also a strange pull, a curiosity that gnawed at you. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to care about the things he said, about the way he looked at you.
You cleared your throat, breaking the moment. “Don’t get too cocky, Ni-ki. I’m not interested.”
He chuckled softly, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Maybe you’re not. But I don’t think you can ignore me forever.”
You took a step back, your heart pounding as you tried to collect yourself, but Ni-ki’s presence was magnetic, pulling you in with an intensity you couldn't fight.
"You're not as good at pretending as you think," he said, his tone a challenge, but there was something softer in it this time.
You clenched your jaw, irritated with yourself for letting him get under your skin. "I'm not pretending," you snapped, your words sharper than you intended. "And I’m definitely not the one who’s making this complicated."
His lips curved into a smile, and he moved just a little bit closer, his gaze intense, unwavering. "You always make things more complicated than they need to be," he said, almost like a confession, like he was admitting something without saying it outright.
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. What could you even say? What was there to say when everything between you and him felt so tangled?
Ni-ki took a step forward, not giving you a chance to speak. "I know you feel it too," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You can’t keep pretending like you don’t want this."
Your breath hitched at his words, your chest tightening. You wanted to push him away, to tell him off like you always did, but this time, the thought didn’t come. Instead, you stood there, frozen, staring into his eyes, realizing that he was right. You couldn’t keep pretending, couldn’t keep pretending like it didn’t affect you, like his teasing and his relentless pursuit didn’t make something inside you stir.
A small, dangerous part of you wanted to give in, to let yourself feel whatever this was between you. But you couldn’t—could you? You weren’t sure what this was, what you were supposed to do with it.
Ni-ki took another step closer, and you found yourself backing up slightly, your heels hitting the soft earth beneath you. "You’re scared," he said, his voice softer now, like a quiet understanding. "But I won’t bite, not unless you want me to."
His words made your stomach twist, the light touch of a dare in his voice, a challenge you couldn’t quite ignore. You felt your pulse quicken, every nerve in your body alert, wanting to resist him, but at the same time, craving what he was offering, whatever that might be.
So why not act on it?
Your heart pounded in your chest as you acted on impulse, unable to resist the magnetic pull any longer. Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached up and grabbed his shirt, pulling him toward you. The suddenness of it caught him off guard, and for a split second, he froze, eyes wide in disbelief.
But then, almost as if a switch had been flipped, Ni-ki closed the distance between you, his hands finding your cheeks as he kissed you back. His lips were hungry, as if he had been waiting for this moment, and the intensity of his kiss made your head spin. You could feel the heat of his touch, the way his fingers slid through your hair, tugging you closer, as if trying to pull you into him.
Your mind was a blur, every thought drowned out by the sensation of him—his scent, the taste of his lips, the urgency that seemed to pulse between you both. It felt like something had shifted, like everything else had faded away, leaving only this moment, only him.
His hands were gentle but firm, holding your face as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing closer to yours.
When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, the air between you thick with unspoken words. Ni-ki’s eyes were dark with something intense, something more than just the teasing that had always been there before. He stared at you for a moment, his fingers still lingering on your face as if he were trying to make sense of what had just happened.
“You…” He trailed off. “That’s one way to get my attention.”
You swallowed, your pulse still racing, but now with a new, more dangerous energy. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d actually kiss me back,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.
Ni-ki chuckled, like he was both impressed and thrilled.
"You’re dangerous," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them, not sure if you meant him or the situation.
Ni-ki smirked, leaning even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "And you love it," he whispered, his voice sending a ripple of heat through your entire body.
You didn’t deny it. In fact, you didn’t have to.
"I’m not sure this is a good idea," you admitted instead, but there was a part of you that wasn’t sure if you were still trying to convince yourself or him.
Ni-ki’s grin grew wider, and he traced his thumb across your lips, almost teasing. "Good ideas are overrated," he said, his tone playful. "Besides, I’ve never been one to shy away from a little chaos."
You pulled back slightly, your breath catching as you tried to regain some semblance of control. "Our parents wouldn’t like this," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Ni-ki's grin never faltered, and his eyes gleamed with mischief. "I never listened to my father," he said, the words casual, but you could hear the underlying truth in them. "And your mother? She has so many children to worry about. What’s one more mess to clean up?" He chuckled, the sound almost a challenge, as if daring you to argue with him.
Every logical thought you had was drowned out by his presence. You should have pulled away. You should have stopped this before it went any further.
But then Ni-ki was closer, so close that you could feel his breath on your skin, and all those thoughts faded into the background. You let him take that final step, let him kiss you again, as if the world outside didn’t exist.
His lips were urgent, almost demanding, and you found yourself responding, giving in to the pull.
He had won. There was no turning back now.
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synopsis: satoru finds out you have a huge crush on suguru and is delightful because duh, it’s embarrassing! but whilst he teases you about it relentlessly, he doesn’t expect to develop a crush of his own.
miyan’s notes: yearning satoru? hell yea

it starts as a joke.
gojo notices immediately. how could he not? you’re not exactly subtle about it either— you light up the second suguru enters the room, like the world has finally started spinning properly again. it’s embarrassingly obvious, the way your eyes search for him first, the way your voice softens when you speak to him, the way you always, always find an excuse to be near suguru. he thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world, watching you get all flustered whenever suguru so much as looks in your direction.
and it’s cute, really. painfully obvious, but cute.
so, naturally, gojo teases you. mercilessly.
“aww, look at you, trying so hard for my best friend! so cute. tragic, but cute.”
your reaction never disappoints—flushed cheeks, flustered stammering, a scowl that doesn’t quite reach your eyes because no matter how annoying gojo is, you’d never actually fight him. well, you would if you thought you stood a chance, but you don’t, so all you can do is glare and hope he gets hit by a stray curse.
“shut up, gojo!”
but, of course, he doesn’t. he never does. if you try to sit next to suguru at lunch, gojo somehow beats you to it, throwing an arm around him like he’s marking his territory, all smug grins and winks as he says, “better luck next time.” if you bring suguru snacks, gojo snatches one before suguru can even react, popping it into his mouth and humming dramatically. “mmm, delicious. wow, you’re so thoughtful! i’m touched.”
if you’re staring at suguru a little too dreamily, gojo suddenly waves a hand in front of your face. “hellooo? earth to lovesick dummy? you’re drooling.”
you think he’s the most annoying person alive.
but what you don’t notice—what gojo himself doesn’t even realize at first—is that at some point, it stops being a joke.
it sneaks up on him, this stupid crush.
at first, he’s just having fun messing with you. watching you turn red and stammer whenever suguru so much as acknowledges your existence is peak entertainment. but then he starts noticing things he shouldn’t.
the smell of your shampoo mixed with a bit of sweet perfume. your habit of rolling your bottom lip between your index finger and thumb when you’re deep in thought. the lip balm that you always use and mindlessly offer to shoko before putting it back into your pocket. how pretty you look without the uniform’s jacket and your hair down.
how you push yourself during training, even when you’re exhausted, even when you’re falling behind. how you always make sure everyone else is okay before you worry about yourself. how your eyes sparkle when you talk about something you love, how your nose scrunches up when you’re frustrated, how you don’t treat him like the strongest, but just another annoying upperclassman.
and suddenly, teasing you doesn’t feel as fun anymore. because he’s the one getting all warm inside.
which is annoying.
so gojo does what gojo does best—he competes.
if you compliment suguru’s hair, gojo immediately smooths a hand over his own, tilting his head toward you with a smirk. “what about me? mine’s fluffier.” if you call suguru cool, gojo immediately pulls off some ridiculous stunt—flipping midair during training, casting an overly flashy cursed technique, or just dramatically sighing and saying, “well, I’m the strongest.” even if the situation doesn’t call for it. it never does.
suguru, long-suffering and tired, just pats your head. “ignore him.” too used to his best friend’s antics to pay attention to the way you stare up at him, starry eyed.
but gojo doesn’t stop. he starts pulling you away from suguru whenever he can, coming up with increasingly ridiculous reasons.
“nah, nah, i’ll train them today, suguru! you go take a nap or something. gotta make sure my favorite junior learns from the best.”
“come sit next to me for lunch, i have important second-year wisdom to share.”
“why would you need suguru when you have me? i’m taller.”
at first, you think he’s just being his usual obnoxious self, but then you start noticing things, although, subconsciously pushing them into the back of your mind in favour of thinking about suguru.
he always steps in when you’re struggling, offering help before you can even ask. he covers for you when yaga scolds you for slacking off. he drags you along on snack runs with him, calling it “first-year bonding time”, but he always pays for your food without a second thought. sometimes, when you train together, he goes easier on you than he should—not enough for you to notice, but enough for him to know.
and sometimes, when you’re too focused on suguru, gojo gets quiet.
when you rush to suguru’s side after a rough mission, eyes full of concern, gojo stands a few steps away, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his usual grin plastered on his face like he doesn’t have a care in the world. but his fingers twitch slightly, and his usual quips die in his throat. when you talk about suguru with that dreamy little look on your face, he just leans back, watching you with unreadable eyes, his head tilting just slightly—like he’s memorizing the way you look when you talk about someone else.
he never tells you.
gojo isn’t used to liking people like this—he’s used to attention, to people naturally gravitating toward him. he’s the strongest, after all. he doesn’t have to try.
but you? you don’t look at him the way you look at suguru.
and as much as he wants to be the one who makes you flustered, the one you look at with admiration, the one you chase after—he can’t bring himself to take that away from suguru. suguru is his best friend and even though he is pretty certain that suguru isn’t interested in you like that, he doesn’t get out of the boundaries of his usual behaviour.
so instead, he just hovers. grins too wide, ruffles your hair a little too often, and calls you “his favorite kohai” like it’s a joke, like it doesn’t mean anything.
and maybe, just maybe, he hopes that one day you’ll stop looking at suguru and look at him instead.

part 2
#miyan writes ⭑.ᐟ#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jjk satoru#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you
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